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RICHARD  WAGNER 

HIS  LIFE  AMD  HIS  DRAMAS 


A  Biographical  Study  of  the  Man  and  an  Explanation 
OF  His  Work 


BY 


W.  J.  HENDERSON 


AUTHOR   OF   "the   STORY   OF   MUSIC,"    "  PRELUDES   AND   STUDIES, 

"what  is  good  music?"  etc. 


'f 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

NEW    YORK    AND    LONDON 

Zbc  Iknicherbocf^er  iprcss 

1902 


Copyright,  1901 


W.   J.    HENDERSON 


Set  up,  electrotyped,  and  printed,  November,  1901 
Reprinted  February,  1902 


XTbe  "Rnfcficibocftcc  preea,  Hew  JPorJi 


ML 

/ 


TO 

ROBERT  EDWIN  BONNER 


1 291 274 


PREFACE 

The  purpose  of  this  book  is  to  supply  Wagner  lovers 
with  a  single  work  which  shall  meet  all  their  needs. 
The  author  has  told  the  story  of  Wagner's  life,  ex- 
plained his  artistic  aims,  given  the  history  of  each  of 
his  great  works,  examined  its  literary  sources,  shown 
how  Wagner  utilised  them,  surveyed  the  musical  plan 
of  each  drama,  and  set  forth  the  meaning  and  purpose 
of  its  principal  ideas.  The  work  is  not  intended  to  be 
critical,  but  is  designed  to  be  expository.  It  aims  to 
help  the  Wagner  lover  to  a  thorough  knowledge  and 
understanding  of  the  man  and  his  works. 

The  author  has  consulted  all  the  leading  biographies, 
and  for  guidance  in  the  direction  of  absolute  trust- 
worthiness he  is  directly  indebted  to  Mme.  Cosima 
Wagner,  whose  suggestions  have  been  carefully  ob- 
served. He  is  also  under  a  large,  but  not  heavy,  bur- 
den of  obligation  to  Mr.  Henry  Edward  Krehbiel, 
musical  critic  of  The  New  York  Tribune,  who  care- 
fully read  the  manuscript  of  this  work  and  pointed  out 
its  errors.  The  value  of  Mr.  Krehbiel's  revision  and 
his  hints  cannot  be  over-estimated.  Thanks  are  also 
due  to  Mr.  Emil  Paur,  conductor  of  the  Philharmonic 
Society,  of  New  York,  for  certain  inquiries  made  in 
Europe. 

The  records  of  first  performances  have  been  pre- 
pared with  great  care  and  with  no  little  labour.     For 


vi  Preface 

the  dates  of  those  at  most  of  the  European  cities  the 
author  is  indebted  to  an  elaborate  article  by  E.  Kastner, 
published  in  the  Allgemeine  Musik.  Zeitung,  of  Berlin, 
for  July  and  August,  1896.  The  original  casts  have 
been  secured,  as  far  as  possible,  from  the  programmes. 
For  that  of  the  "Flying  Dutchman  "  at  Dresden — in- 
correctly given  in  many  books  on  Wagner — the  author 
is  indebted  to  Hofkapellmeister  Ernst  von  Schuch,  who 
obtained  it  from  the  records  of  the  Hoftheater.  The 
name  of  the  singer  of  the  Herald  in  the  first  cast  of 
"Lohengrin,"  missing  in  all  the  published  histories, 
was  supplied  by  Hermann  Wolff,  of  Berlin,  from  the 
records  of  Weimar.  The  casts  of  first  performances 
in  this  country  are  not  quite  complete,  simply  because 
the  journalists  of  twenty-five  years  ago  did  not  realise 
their  obligations  to  posterity.  The  casts  were  not 
published  in  full.  The  records  have  disappeared.  The 
theatres  in  some  cases — as  in  that  of  the  Stadt — have 
long  ago  gone  out  of  existence  and  nothing  can  be 
done.  As  far  as  given  the  casts  are,  the  author  be- 
lieves, perfectly  correct. 


CONTENTS 


PART  I-THE  LIFE  OF  WAGNER 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

1 — The  Boyhood  of  a  Genius        .        .        .  i 

11 — The  First  Operas 14 

111 — konigsberg  and  riga        ....  27 

IV — "The  End  of  a  Musician  in  Paris"  .        .  38 

V — Beginning  of  Fame  and  Hostility      .        .  .^o 

VI—"  Lohengrin"  and  "Die  Meistersinger  "  .  04 

Vll — "  Art  and  Revolution  "  .        •         •        •  73 

VIll — Preaching  what  he  Practised  ...  85 

IX — A  Stranger  in  a  Strange  Land        .        .  96 

X — A  Second  End  in  Paris      ....  Qo^, 

XI — A  Monarch  to  the  Rescue       .        .        .  n  7 

XII — Some  Ideals  Realised       .        .        .        .  .127 

XIII — Finis  Coronat  Opus         .        .        .        .136 

XIV — The  Last  Drama 146 

XV — The  Character  of  THE  Man     .        .        .1^4 


PART  II-THE  ARTISTIC  AIMS  OF  WAGNER 


I — The  Lyric  Drama  as  he  Found  it 
II — The  Reforms  of  Wagner 
111 — The  Musical  System 
IV — The  System  as  Compi.lted 


167 
178 
189 
200 


VIU 


Contents 


PART  III-THE  GREAT  MUSIC  DRAMAS 


Introductory    

213 

RiENZI 

221 

Der  Fliegende  Hollander  .... 

234 

Tannhauser  und  der  Sangerkrieg  auf  Wartburc 

J    230 

Lohengrin 

270 

I — The  Book 

272 

II — The  Music 

283 

Tristan  und  Isolde 

293 

I — Sources  of  the  Story     . 

294 

II — Wagner's  Dramatic  Poem 

300 

III — The  Musical  Exposition 

315 

Die  Meistersinger  von  Nurnberg 

328 

Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen    .... 

355 

I — The  Sources  of  the  Poems 

364 

II — The  Story  as  Told  by  Wagner 

388 

III — The  Music  of  the  Trilogy 

422 

Parsifal 

446 

I — The  Original  Legends     . 

447 

II — The  Drama  of  Wagner  . 

461 

Ill — The  Musical  Plan  .... 

473 

Appendix  A — The  Youthful  Symphony 

481 

Appendix  B — Wagner  and  the  Ballet 

487 

Index          

491 

RICHARD  WAGNER 


CHAPTER   I 

THE   BOYHOOD   OF  A   GENIUS 

"  O  kindischer  Held  !    O  herrlicher  Knabe." — Siegfried. 

The  ancestry  of  Richard  Wagner  has  been  traced  as 
far  as  his  grandfather.  This  good  man  was  Gottlob 
Friedrich  Wagner,  a  custom  house  official,  whose  life- 
work  it  was  to  see  that  nothing  was  smuggled  into 
Leipsic  through  the  city  gates.  Gottlob  Friedrich  had 
a  son  to  whom  was  given  the  second  name  of  his 
father.  Friedrich  Wagner  was  a  clerk  of  police.  He 
had  a  considerable  acquaintance  with  languages,  and 
spoke  French  so  well  that  when  the  French  army  un- 
der Napoleon  occupied  the  city,  he  was  appointed  by 
Marshal  Davoust  to  organise  the  police.  Wagner's 
father  was  born  in  1770,  and  his  life  was  short.  It  is 
known  that  he  had  a  taste  for  the  theatre  and  for 
verse.  After  the  battles  of  October  18  and  19,  18 13, 
at  the  gates  of  Leipsic,  when  Napoleon's  power  was 
broken  in  Germany,  the  accumulation  of  dead  around 
the  city  caused  an  epidemic  fever,  and  among  its  vic- 
tims was  the  police  clerk  Wagner.     He  passed  away 


2  Richard  Wagner 

on  November  22,  181  5,  leaving  among  other  children 
a  male  babe  of  six  months,  destined  to  immortalise 
his  name.  This  child  u'as  Wilhelm  Richard  Wagner, 
born  May  22,  18 13,  in  "The  House  of  the  Red  and 
White  Lion,"  No.  88  Hause  Bruhl. 

Wagner's  mother,  whom  his  father  married  in  1798, 
was  Johanna  Rosina  Bertz,  who  died  in  1848.  Rich- 
ard was  the  youngest  of  nine  children,  the  others  be- 
ing Albert,  Carl  Gustav,  Johanna  Rosalie,  Carl  Julius, 
Luise  Constanze,  Clara  Wilhelmine,  Maria  Theresia, 
and  Wilhelmine  Ottilie.  Of  these  Albert  became  an 
actor  and  singer  of  considerable  importance  and  finally 
stage  manager  in  Berlin.  He  married  Elise  Gollmann, 
a  singer  with  a  remarkably  extensive  voice,  who  is 
said  to  have  sung  "Tancredi "  and  "The  Queen  of 
the  Night"  equally  well.  She  bore  him  a  daughter, 
Johanna,  who  became  one  of  the  most  eminent  so- 
pranos of  her  time,  and  was  the  original  Elizabeth  in 
' '  Tannhauser "  at  the  age  of  seventeen.  Wagner's  sis- 
ter Johanna  Rosalie  was  an  actress  and  Clara  was  a 
singer. 

When  the  epidemic  had  carried  off  the  police  clerk, 
the  widow  was  in  straitened  circumstances.  Her 
oldest  son  was  only  fourteen  years  old  and  not  com- 
petent to  contribute  to  the  support  of  the  large  family. 
The  governmental  pension  was  small  and  she  had  no 
fortune  of  her  own.  At  this  trying  period  Ludwig 
Geyer,  an  old  friend  of  her  husband,  asked  her  to  be 
his  wife,  and  although  only  nine  months  had  elapsed 
since  Friedrich  Wagner's  death,  she,  like  a  sensible 
woman,  accepted  the  offer.  Geyer  was  a  man  of 
talent  and  well  fitted  to  be  the  parental  guide  of  the 
young  Richard.     He  was  an  actor,  a  singer,  an  au- 


The  Boyhood  of  a  Genius  3 

thor,  and  a  portrait  painter.  As  a  singer  he  once  ap- 
peared in  "Joseph  in  Egypt,"  when  that  opera  was 
produced  by  Weber  on  his  assumption  of  the  con- 
ductor's baton  at  the  Dresden  opera.  His  gift  for 
portrait  painting  is  said  almost  to  have  reached  genius. 
He  was  the  writer  of  several  comedies,  and  one  of 
his  plays,  "The  Slaughter  of  the  Innocents,"  is  still 
well  known  in  Germany,  To  celebrate  the  sixtieth 
birthday  of  Richard  Wagner  his  family  at  Bayreuth 
surprised  him  with  a  performance  of  this  play,  and  he 
was  much  touched  by  it,  for  he  always  cherished  a 
deep  affection  for  his  stepfather. 

Owing  to  the  employment  of  Geyer  in  a  Dresden 
theatre,  the  whole  family  removed  to  that  city.  Here 
the  education  of  the  future  composer  began  in  earn- 
est. The  home  influences  were  the  example  of  Geyer 
and  the  sweet,  gentle  affection  of  the  mother,  to 
whom  her  children  were  the  first  of  all  considerations. 
The  outside  influence  was  found  in  the  Dresden 
Kreuzschule,  where  the  boy  was  entered  under  the 
name  of  Richard  Geyer.  This  schooling,  however, 
was  not  begun  till  after  the  death  of  the  stepfather. 
In  the  beginning  Geyer  thought  that  Richard  would 
make  a  good  painter,  but,  the  composer  tells  us  in 
his  autobiographic  sketch,  "  I  showed  a  very  poor 
talent  for  drawing."  Geyer  died  on  September  30, 
1821,  still  cherishing  the  belief  that  there  was  some 
sort  of  promise  in  the  boy.  "Shortly  before  his 
death,"  says  the  brief  autobiography,  "I  had  learnt  to 
play  '  Ueb'  immer  Treu  und  Redlichkeit '  and  the  then 
newly  published  '  Jungfernkranz'  upon  the  pianoforte  ; 
the  day  before  his  death  1  was  bid  to  play  him  both 
these  pieces  in  the  adjoining  room  ;  1  heard  him  then 


4  Richard  Wagner 

with  feeble  voice  say  to  my  mother  :  '  Has  he  per- 
chance a  talent  for  music  ? '  On  the  early  morrow, 
as  he  lay  dead,  my  mother  came  into  the  children's 
sleeping  room  and  said  to  each  of  us  some  loving 
word.  To  me  she  said  :  '  He  hoped  to  make  some- 
thing of  thee.'  1  remember,  too,  that  for  a  long  time 
I  imagined  that  something  indeed  would  come  of 
me." 

Wagner  was  eight  years  old  when  his  stepfather 
died,  and  in  order  that  the  mother's  cares  might  be 
lightened,  he  was  sent  for  a  year  to  live  with  a 
brother  of  Geyer  at  Eisleben,  where  he  attended  a 
private  school,  it  was  in  December,  1822,  that  he 
began  to  go  to  the  Kreuzschule  in  Dresden.  If  ever 
there  was  a  childhood  in  which  the  future  man  was 
foreshadowed  it  was  that  of  Wagner.  His  biog- 
raphers have  with  one  accord  set  down  the  state- 
ment that  the  boy  showed  no  promise  in  his  early 
years.  Look  at  them  and  see  for  yourself.  At  the 
Kreuzschule  he  conceived  a  profound  love  for  the 
classicism  of  Homer,  and  to  the  delight  of  his  teacher, 
Herr  Silig,  translated  the  first  twelve  books  of  the 
Odyssey  out  of  school  hours.  He  revelled  in  the 
fascinations  of  mythology,  and  his  fancy  was  so 
stimulated  that  when  commemorative  verses  on  the 
death  of  one  of  the  boys  were  asked  for,  Wagner's, 
having  been  pruned  of  some  extravagances,  were 
crowned  with  the  halo  of  type. 

Thereupon  this  child  of  eleven  resolved  to  become 
a  poet.  He  projected  vast  tragedies  on  the  plan  of 
Apel's  "  Polyeidos  "  and  "  Die  Aetolier."  He  plunged 
into  the  deeps  of  Shakespeare  and  translated  a  speech 
of  Romeo  into  metrical  German.      Finally  he  began  a 


The  Boyhood  of  a  Genius  5 

grand  tragedy,  which  proved  to  be  compounded  of 
elements  from  "Hamlet"  and  "King  Lear."  He 
laboured  on  this  for  two  years.  "  The  plan,"  he  says, 
"  was  gigantic  in  the  extreme  ;  two-and-forty  human 
beings  died  in  the  course  of  this  piece,  and  I  saw  my- 
self compelled  in  its  working  out  to  call  the  greater 
number  back  as  ghosts,  since  otherwise  I  should  have 
been  short  of  characters  for  my  last  acts." 

Huge  poetic  projects  already  throbbing  in  the  young 
brain,  music,  too,  seized  him  for  her  own.  He  would 
not  stay  away  from  the  piano,  and  so  the  tutor  who 
was  guiding  him  through  the  mazes  of  Cornelius 
Nepos  engaged  to  teach  him  the  technic  of  the  instru- 
ment. But  the  wayward  Wagner  would  not  practice. 
The  moment  that  the  tutor's  back  was  turned  he 
began  to  strum  the  music  of  "Der  Freischutz  "  by 
ear,  and  he  learned  to  perform  the  overture  with 
"fearful  fingering."  The  teacher  overheard  him  and 
said  that  nothing  would  come  of  his  piano  studies. 
And  so  it  proved,  for  Wagner  never  learned  to  play 
the  piano.  Yet  was  there  nothing  in  all  this  to  show 
the  bent  of  the  young  mind  ?  Was  it  not  a  childhood 
meet  for  him  who  was  one  day  to  project  tragedies 
before  undreamed  of  on  the  lyric  stage,  and  to  cut 
loose  from  all  the  traditions  of  operatic  music  ?  And 
was  it  not  a  good  omen  when  at  last  there  fell  across 
his  childhood  the  shadow  of  his  artistic  progenitor, 
Weber?  "When  Weber  passed  our  house  on  his 
way  to  the  theatre,"  writes  Wagner,  "I  used  to 
watch  him  with  something  akin  to  religious  awe  !  " 
Indeed,  Weber  used  to  enter  the  house  to  talk  to  the 
sweet  Frau  Geyer,  who  was  well  liked  among  artists, 
and  so   perhaps  the   little  Richard   looked   into   the 


6  Richard  Wagner 

luminous   depths   of  the  eyes  of  the  composer  of 
"Der  Freischutz." 

Weber  became  the  idol  of  his  boyhood,  and  no 
doubt  the  worship  of  this  real  genius  had  some  in- 
fluence on  the  bent  of  Wagner's  musical  thought. 
It  is  narrated  of  him  that,  when  he  was  not  permitted 
to  go  to  the  theatre  to  hear  "  Der  Freischutz,"  he  used 
to  stand  in  the  corner  of  a  room  at  home  and  count 
the  minutes,  specifying  just  what  was  going  on  at 
each  particular  instant  and  finally  weeping,  so  that  his 
mother  would  yield  and  send  him  happy  off  to  the 
performance.  However,  in  1827  the  family  returned 
to  Leipsic  and  that  was  the  end  of  young  Richard's 
close  observation  of  Weber.  A  still  more  serious  in- 
fluence now  entered  into  his  life,  for  at  the  concerts  of 
the  Leipsic  Gewandhaus  he  first  heard  the  works  of 
Beethoven.  The  overture  to  "  Egmont  "  fired  him 
with  a  desire  to  preface  his  own  drama  with  such  a 
piece  of  music.  So  he  borrowed  a  copy  of  Logier's 
treatise  on  harmony  and  counterpoint  and  tried  to 
learn  its  contents  in  a  week.  This  was  the  crucial 
test  of  his  genius.  If  he  had  not  been  born  to  be  a 
composer,  the  difficulties  which  he  encountered  in  his 
solitary  struggle  with  the  science  of  music  would 
have  turned  him  aside  from  the  study  forever.  But 
it  was  not  so.  He  says  in  his  autobiography  :  "Its 
difficulties  both  provoked  and  fascinated  me  ;  I  re- 
solved to  become  a  musician."  And  thus  we  find 
Wagner,  whose  childhood  has  been  pronounced  insig- 
nificant, at  the  age  of  fifteen  already  a  dramatist  and 
eager  to  be  a  composer.  To  be  sure,  he  was  not  a 
prodigy,  but  the  future  of  the  man  was  marked  out 
plainly   by   the  child  ;    and   we  shall  see   that   from 


The  Boyhood  of  a  Genius  7 

this  time  lie  moved  steadily  toward  the  goal  of  his 
ambition. 

The  progress  was  not  accomplished  without  a 
struggle.  As  he  himself  tells  us  in  his  autobiography, 
his  family  now  unearthed  his  great  tragedy,  and  he 
was  severely  admonished  that  in  the  future  it  would 
be  well  for  him  to  give  less  attention  to  Melpomene 
and  more  to  his  text-books.  But  he  was  not  to  be 
turned  aside  from  his  purpose.  "  Under  such  cir- 
cumstances," he  says,  "I  breathed  no  word  of  my 
secret  discovery  of  a  calling  for  music  ;  but  neverthe- 
less I  composed,  in  silence,  a  sonata,  a  quartet,  and  an 
aria.  When  I  felt  myself  sufficiently  matured  in  my 
private  musical  studies,  I  ventured  forth  at  last  with 
their  announcement.  Naturally,  I  now  had  many  a 
hard  battle  to  wage,  for  my  relatives  could  only  con- 
sider my  penchant  for  music  as  a  fleeting  passion — all 
the  more  as  it  was  unsupported  by  any  proofs  ot 
preliminary  study,  and  especially  by  any  already  won 
dexterity  in  handling  a  musical  instrument."  We 
laugh,  perhaps,  at  this  awkward  boy  in  his  lumber- 
ing struggles,  but  there  was  something  large  in  it  all. 
He  aimed  at  the  top,  and  from  the  outset,  pathetically 
enough,  as  it  afterward  proved,  tried  to  hitch  his 
"  waggon  to  a  star." 

The  family  so  far  humoured  his  new  ambition  as  to 
engage  a  music  teacher  for  him,  Gottlieb  Miiller,  after- 
ward organist  at  Altenburg.  But  a  sorry  time  this 
honest  man  had  with  his  eccentric  young  pupil.  The 
boy  was  at  this  time  head  over  ears  in  the  romanticism 
of  Ernst  Theodor  Hoffmann,  then  recently  dead  and 
still  in  the  height  of  his  fame  in  Germany.  The 
astounding   fecundity   of  this   writer's   invention   of 


8  Richard  Wagner 

marvellous  incidents  inflamed  the  boy's  mind,  and 
threw  him  into  a  state  of  continual  nervous  excite- 
ment. He  says  himself  that  he  had  day-dreams  in 
which  the  keynote,  third  and  dominant,  seemed  to 
take  form  and  to  reveal  to  him  their  mighty  meanings. 
But  he  would  not  study  systematically,  and  his  family 
apparently  had  ground  for  believing  that  music  would 
soon  be  abandoned  for  some  other  fancy.  Instead  of 
treading  patiently  the  rocky  path  of  counterpoint,  the 
impatient  boy  endeavoured  at  one  leap  to  reach  the 
top  of  the  musical  mountain,  and  wrote  overtures  for 
orchestra.  One  of  them  was  actually  performed  in  a 
theatre  in  Leipsic  under  the  direction  of  Heinrich 
Dorn.  It  was,  as  Wagner  confessed,  the  culminating 
point  of  his  folly.  The  parts  of  the  string  instruments 
in  score  were  written  in  red  ink,  those  of  the  wood 
in  green,  and  those  of  the  brass  in  black.  "  Beetho- 
ven's Ninth  Symphony,"  he  says,  "was  a  mere  Pleyel 
sonata  by  the  side  of  this  marvellously  concocted 
overture."  At  every  fourth  measure  the  tympani 
player  had  a  note  to  be  played  forte,  and  when  the 
audience  had  recovered  from  its  astonishment  at  this 
wonderful  effect,  it  burst  into  laughter. 

But  all  these  strivings  were  not  in  vain.  As  Adolphe 
Jullien  notes  in  his  ' '  Richard  Wagner, "  the  influence  of 
the  Hoffmann  stories  was  not  lost  ;  "  for  the  '  Broth- 
ers of  Serapion  '  contained  an  account  of  the  poetical 
tourney  at  Wartburg,  and  some  germs  of  '  The 
Meistersinger '  are  found  in  another  story  by  Hoff- 
mann, 'Master  Martin,  the  Cooper  of  Nuremberg.'" 
Dorn,  the  conductor,  became  interested  in  young 
Wagner,  and  afterwards  proved  to  be  a  valuable 
friend.     The  boy  modestly  and  sincerely  thanked  him 


The  Boyhood  of  a  Genius  9 

for  producing  the  overture,  and  Dorn  replied  that  he 
had  at  once  perceived  the  boy's  talent  and  that  further- 
more the  orchestration  had  not  needed  extensive  re- 
vision. Wagner  now  seemed  to  feel  his  own  need 
of  some  sort  of  regular  study,  for  he  matriculated  at 
the  University  of  Leipsic,  chiefly  in  order  that  he 
might  attend  the  lectures  on  aesthetics  and  philosophy. 
Here  again  his  want  of  application  made  itself  ap- 
parent, and  he  entered  into  the  dissipations  of  student 
life  with  avidity.  But  he  soon  wearied  of  them  and 
once  more  settled  down  to  the  study  of  music, 
this  time  under  Theodor  Weinlig,  who  sat  in  the 
honoured  seat  of  Bach  as  the  cantor  of  the  Thomas 
School. 

In  less  than  half  a  year  Weinlig  had  taught  the  boy 
to  solve  the  hardest  problems  of  counterpoint,  and 
said  to  him,  "What  you  have  made  your  own  by 
this  dry  study,  we  call  self-dependence."  At  this 
time,  too,  Wagner  became  acquainted  with  the  music 
of  Mozart  and  its  influence  upon  his  mind  was  very 
healthful.  He  laboured  to  rid  himself  of  bombast  and 
to  attain  a  nobler  simplicity.  He  wrote  a  piano 
sonata  in  which  he  strove  for  a  "natural,  unforced 
style  in  composition."  This  sonata  was  published  by 
Breitkopf  and  Hartel,  and  was,  so  far  as  the  records 
show,  Wagner's  real  Opus  i.  It  shows  no  trace  of 
inspiration,  and  can  rank  only  as  a  conservatory 
exercise. 

It  was  followed  by  a  polonaise  in  D  for  four  hands, 
Opus  2,  and  this  was  also  printed  by  Breitkopf  and 
Hartel.  It  is  nothing  more  than  school  work,  like 
its  predecessor.  The  third  work  was  a  fantasia  in  F 
sharp  minor  for  piano.     The  restraining  power  of  the 


lo  Richard  Wagner 

teacher  is  less  apparent  in  this  composition,  which 
remains  unpublished.  In  his  article  on  Wagner  in 
Grove's  "Dictionary  of  Music,"  Mr.  Edward  Dann- 
reuther  quotes  at  some  length  from  a  personal  con- 
versation with  the  composer,  who  described  Weinlig's 
method  of  teaching.  It  was  a  plain  and  practical 
method,  in  which  example  and  precept  were  judici- 
ously combined.  Wagner  said  to  Mr.  Dannreuther, 
"The  true  lesson  consisted  in  his  patient  and  careful 
inspection  of  what  had  been  written."  It  was  fortu- 
nate for  Wagner  that  he  had  such  a  mentor,  and  that 
he  was  in  the  beginning  of  his  career  as  a  composer 
compelled  to  learn  and  practice  the  old  forms  in  which 
the  fundamental  laws  of  music  found  their  perfect 
exemplification.  His  readiness  to  depart  from  the 
straight  and  narrow  path  would  have  led  him  into 
insuperable  difficulties,  and  perhaps  to  hopeless  dis- 
couragement, had  he  not  possessed  so  kind  and  trust- 
worthy a  guide. 

Young  Wagner  now  launched  upon  musical  activi- 
ties of  no  small  magnitude  for  one  so  youthful.  In 
the  year  1830  he  made  a  pianoforte  transcription  of 
Beethoven's  Ninth  Symphony,  and  in  a  letter  dated 
Oct.  6  he  offered  it  to  the  Messrs.  Schott,  of  Mayence. 
The  offer  was  not  accepted.  He  also  wrote  to  the 
Peters  Bureau  de  Musique,  offering  to  make  piano 
arrangements  at  less  than  the  usual  rates.  In  1831  he 
composed  two  overtures,  one  a  "Concert  Ouvertiire 
mit  Fuge  "  in  C,  and  the  other  in  D  minor.  This  one 
is  dated  Sept.  26,  with  emendations  dated  Nov.  4. 
It  was  performed  at  one  of  the  Gewandhaus  concerts 
on  Dec.  25,  1831.  The  Allgemeine  Miisikalische 
Zeitung  said  of  it  :  "  Much  pleasure  was  given  us  by 


The  Boyhood  of  a  Genius  1 1 

a  new  overture  by  a  composer  still  very  young,  Herr 
Richard  Wagner,  The  piece  was  thoroughly  appre- 
ciated, and,  indeed,  the  young  man  promises  much  : 
the  composition  not  only  sounds  well,  but  it  has  ideas 
and  it  is  written  with  care  and  skill,  with  an  evident 
striving  after  the  noblest."  * 

In  1832,  when  he  was  19  years  old,  he  wrote  a 
symphony  in  C  major.f  The  biographers  of  Wagner 
have  agreed  to  disagree  about  this  symphony,  even 
the  usually  accurate  Mr.  Finck  calling  it  a  work  in  C 
minor.  It  is,  however,  plainly  enough  in  C  major. 
The  history  of  this  composition  was  peculiar.  When 
he  had  finished  it  Wagner  put  it  in  his  trunk  and 
started  for  Vienna,  "  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  get 
a  glimpse  of  this  famed  musical  centre.  What  1  heard 
and  saw  there  was  not  to  my  edification  ;  wherever 
I  went  I  heard  'Zampa'  or  Strauss's  potpourris  on 
'Zampa' — two  things  that  were  an  abomination  to 
me,  especially  at  that  time."  On  the  homeward 
journey  he  tarried  a  while  in  Prague,  where  he 
made  the  acquaintance  of  Dionys  Weber,  director 
of  the  Conservatory.  This  gentleman's  pupils  re- 
hearsed the  symphony.  The  score  was  next  sub- 
mitted to  the  directors  of  the  Gewandhaus  concerts  at 
Leipsic. 

The  managing  director  was  Rochlitz,  editor  of  the 
Allgemeine  Miisikalische  Zeitimg,  an  authority  on 
music,  and  he  invited  Wagner  to  call  on  him.  "When 
I  presented  myself,  the  stately  old  gentleman  raised 
his  spectacles,  saying,  '  You  are  a  young  man  in- 
deed !     I  expected  an   older  and   more  experienced 

*  Quoted  from  "  Wagner  and  his  Works,"  by  Henry  T.  Finck. 
a  vols.,  New  York,  1893.  f  See  Appendix  A. 


12  Richard  Wagner 

composer.'  "  The  symphony  was  tried,  and  on  Jan. 
10,  1833,  it  was  produced  at  a  Gewandhaus  concert. 
In  the  season  of  1834-5  Wagner,  who  was  in  Leipsic, 
forced  his  score  on  the  attention  of  Mendelssohn, 
then  the  conductor  of  the  Gewandhaus  concerts,  in 
the  hope  of  getting  another  performance.  Mendels- 
sohn put  the  manuscript  away,  and,  though  he  often 
saw  Wagner,  never  spoke  of  the  work.  Wagner 
was  too  modest  to  ask  him  about  it,  and  so  the  score 
was  lost.  In  1872  the  orchestral  parts  were  found  in 
an  old  trunk  left  by  Wagner  in  Dresden  in  the  course 
of  the  revolutionary  disturbances  of  1849. 

With  the  composition  of  this  symphony,  Wagner's 
apprenticeship  in  instrumental  music  may  be  said  to 
have  ended.  His  next  venture  was  across  that  magic 
border  which  separates  the  orchestra  from  the  stage. 
His  period  of  juvenility  was  not  quite  ended,  but  he 
may  be  said  to  have  finished  the  preparatory  stage  of 
his  career  and  to  be  about  to  enter  on  the  first  years 
of  serious  struggle  toward  his  real  goal.  His  boy- 
hood was  fairly  indicative  of  his  nature.  Restless, 
dissatisfied,  eager  to  reach  the  topmost  heights,  and 
not  suited  with  the  means  at  hand,  we  yet  find  him 
experimenting  with  the  methods  of  those  who  pre- 
ceded him,  analysing  and  assimilating  the  musical 
past,  and  learning  to  conquer  musical  forms.  In  the 
juvenile  symphony  he  showed  that  he  had  honestly 
solved  the  problems  of  construction,  that  he  had 
mastered  the  formal  materials  of  his  art.  The  wise 
Schumann  said,  "Mastery  of  form  leads  talent  to 
ever  increasing  freedom."  At  nineteen  years  of  age, 
with  the  methods  of  Beethoven  and  Mozart  firmly 
fixed  in  his  mind,  the  young  Wagner  had  produced 


The  Boyhood  of  a  Genius  13 

a  symphonic  composition,  wiiich,  while  imitative  in 
both  themes  and  treatment,  showed  astonishing 
musical  vigour  and  an  enterprising  spirit.  The  boy 
was  on  the  verge  of  manhood,  artistically  as  well  as 
physically. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE    FIRST    OPERAS 

"  You  are  a  young  man  indeed  !  " — Rochlitz  to  Wagner 

In  the  year  1832,  while  he  was  in  Prague,  Wagner 
began  his  career  as  a  composer  of  operas,  and  in  his 
first  attempt,  as  in  ail  later  ones,  wrote  his  own  lib- 
retto. His  friend  Heinrich  Laube  *  had  oiTered  him  a 
libretto  on  the  subject  of  Kosciuszko,  but  he  refused 
it,  saying  that  he  was  engaged  wholly  on  instru- 
mental music.  But  his  genius  was  for  the  stage,  and 
his  boyhood  had  been  surrounded  by  the  immediate 
influences  of  the  theatre.  It  is,  therefore,  not  sur- 
prising to  find  him  at  work  on  an  opera.  He  says 
in  his  autobiography  :  "In  that  city  [Prague]  I  also 
composed  an  opera  book  of  tragic  contents,  '  Die 
Hochzeit.'  I  know  not  whence  1  had  come  by  the 
mediaeval  subject  matter  : — a  frantic  lover  climbs  to 
the  window  of  the  sleeping-chamber  of  his  friend's 
bride,  wherein  she  is  awaiting  the  advent  of  the 
bridegroom  ;  the  bride  struggles  with  the  madman 
and  hurls  him  into  the   courtyard  below,  where  his 

*  Laube  wrote  in  the  Journal  du  Monde  Elegant,  of  Leipsic,  after 
the  private  performance  of  the  symphony,  the  first  public  criticism  of 
Wagner's  work.  It  was  favourable,  and  helped  the  young  composer 
to  gain  a  public  performance. 

14 


The  First  Operas  15 

mangled  body  gives  up  the  ghost.  During  the  funeral 
ceremony  the  bride,  uttering  one  cry,  sinks  lifeless  on 
the  corpse.  Returning  to  Leipsic,  1  set  to  work  at 
once  on  the  composition  of  this  opera's  first  number, 
which  contained  a  grand  sextet  that  much  pleased 
Weinlig.  The  text-book  found  no  favour  with  my 
sister  ;  I  destroyed  its  every  trace." 

We  are  indebted  to  the  good  Rosalie  for  her  objec- 
tions to  this  stupid  and  unpoetic  book.  Wagner's 
memory  in  regard  to  this  juvenile  work  was  not 
perfect.  He  presented  an  autograph  of  the  numbers 
composed  to  the  \yurzburg  Musikverein.  They  are 
an  introduction,  a  chorus,  and  a  septet,  not  a  sextet 
as  he  said.  This  autograph  copy  is  still  extant. 
Franz  Muncker,  in  his  "  Life  of  Wagner,"  says  that 
the  young  librettist  found  his  subject  in  Immermann's 
"  Cardenio  und  Celinde  "  (1826),  and  that  he  arranged 
the  conclusion  of  his  story  after  that  of  the  "Bride  of 
Messina."  The  whole  matter,  however,  may  be  dis- 
missed as  unimportant. 

Wagner  now  went  to  Wurzburg,  and  at  the  age 
of  twenty  sought  employment  as  a  musician  through 
the  influence  of  his  brother  Albert,  then  engaged  in 
the  Wurzburg  Theatre  as  actor,  singer,  and  stage 
manager.  Albert  succeeded  in  securing  for  him  a 
position  as  chorus  master  at  ten  florins  a  month. 
As  an  evidence  of  his  gratitude  he  composed  for  Al- 
bert an  aria  of  142  measures  to  substitute  for  a  shorter 
one  in  Marschner's  "Der  Vampyr."  A  phototype 
reproduction  of  this  aria  may  be  found  in  Wilhelm 
Tappert's  "  R.  Wagner;  Sein  Leben  und  Seine 
Werke."  It  has  no  especial  interest  except  for  col- 
lectors of  Wagneriana. 


1 6  Richard  Wagner 

In  the  year  1833  the  young  composer  set  to  work 
on  another  opera.  This  was  entitled  "Die  Feen," 
and  although  it  was  completed,  its  fate  was  not  un- 
like that  of  its  predecessor.  It  came  to  nothing  in 
the  composer's  life,  and  though  finished  on  Dec.  7, 
1833,  received  its  first  performance  in  Munich  on  Jan. 
29,  1888.  Perhaps  the  best  short  account  of  this 
work  that  can  be  given  is  that  of  Wagner  himself  in 
his  "Communication  to  my  Friends."  *    He  says  : 

"On  the  model  of  one  of  Gozzi's  fairy  tales  ['La 
donna  serpente ']  I  wrote  for  myself  an  opera  text  in 
verse,  'Die  Feen,'  [The  Fairies];  the  then  predom- 
inant romantic  opera  of  Weber,  and  also  of  Marsch- 
ner — who  about  this  time  made  his  first  appearance 
on  the  scene,  and  that  at  my  place  of  sojourn,  Leipsic 
— determined  me  to  follow  in  their  footsteps.  What 
I  turned  out  for  myself  was  nothing  more  than  barely 
what  I  wanted,  an  opera  text  ;  this  I  set  to  music 
according  to  the  impressions  made  upon  me  by 
Weber,  Beethoven,  and  Marschner.  However,  what 
took  my  fancy  in  the  tale  of  Gozzi  was  not  merely 
its  adaptability  for  an  opera  text,  but  the  fascination 
of  the  'stuff'  itself.  A  fairy,  who  renounces  im- 
mortality for  the  sake  of  a  human  lover,  can  only 
become  a  mortal  through  the  fulfilment  of  certain 
hard  conditions,  the  non-compliance  wherewith  on 
the  part  of  her  earthly  swain  threatens  her  with  the 
direst  penalties  ;  her  lover  fails  in  the  test,  which 
consists  in  this,  that  however  evil  and  repulsive  she 

*  Published  in  the  summer  of  1851.  It  will  be  found  in  Vol,  I. 
of  W.  Ashton  Ellis's  translation  of  Wagner's  Prose  Works.  It  is 
Wagner's  most  important  paper  in  regard  to  his  own  artistic  develop- 
ment. 


The  First  Operas  17 

may  appear  to  him  (in  an  obligatory  metamorphosis) 
he  shall  not  reject  her  in  his  unbelief.  In  Gozzi's 
tale  the  fairy  is  now  changed  into  a  snake  ;  the  re- 
morseful lover  frees  her  from  the  spell  by  kissing  the 
snake  :  thus  he  wins  her  for  his  wife.  I  altered  this 
denouement  by  changing  the  fairy  into  a  stone  and 
then  releasing  her  from  the  spell  by  her  lover's  pas- 
sionate song  ;  while  the  lover — instead  of  being  al- 
lowed to  carry  the  bride  off  to  his  own  country —  is 
himself  admitted  by  the  Fairy  King  to  the  immor- 
tal bliss  of  Fairyland,  together  with  his  fairy  wife." 

This  opera  was  offered  to  the  director  of  the 
theatre  at  Leipsic,  whither  Wagner  returned  early  in 
1834,  and  it  is  evident  that  a  production  was 
promised,  for  Laube  announced  in  his  journal  that 
immediately  after  "  Le  Bal  Masque"  by  Auber  there 
would  be  brought  forward  the  first  opera  of  a  young 
composer  named  Richard  Wagner.  But  when  Auber's 
work  had  completed  its  run,  the  director  announced 
Bellini's  "I  Capuletti  ed  i  Montecchi,"  and  that  was 
the  end  of  "Die  Feen  "  till  1888.  Some  of  the  com- 
mentators have  found  the  germs  of  important  features 
of  Wagner's  later  works  in  this  opera,  but  there  is 
really  no  evidence  that  any  direct  connection  exists. 
It  is  true  that  the  story  is  mythical,  but  Wagner 
departed  from  the  myth  in  his  next  opera.  It  is, 
perhaps,  more  significant  that  already  the  young 
writer  showed  some  skill  in  the  management  of 
pictorial  stage  effects.  The  music  was  wholly  imita- 
tive of  Beethoven,  Weber,  and  Marschner,  with  some 
minor  borrowings  from  Mozart.  Here  and  there  can 
be  found  musical  ideas  which  recur  in  later  works 
and  which  are  characteristic  of  Wagner.     The  score 


1 8  Richard  Wagner 

was  constructed  on  the  Italian  opera  model  and  con- 
tains the  regular  series  of  arias,  scenas,  cavatinas,  etc. 
It  has  even  a  "mad  scene."  Furthermore  it  is  a 
strikingly  melodious  score,  and  very  light  in  touch. 
But  the  work  has  now  only  a  historical  interest,  and 
its  occasional  performances  in  Munich,  about  the 
time  that  the  foreign  pilgrims  to  Bayreuth  are  in  the 
land,  are  purely  speculative  enterprises. 

Now  came  another  change  in  the  inner  life  of  this 
budding  genius.  In  the  performance  or  Bellini's 
opera,  he  heard  for  the  first  time  the  great  artist 
Wilhelmina  Schroeder-Devrient,  and  the  impression 
which  she  made  upon  him  was  lasting.  As  late  as 
1872  he  said,  "Whenever  I  conceived  a  character,  I 
saw  her."  The  imposing  effect  which  her  dramatic 
sincerity  and  her  consummate  command  of  style 
enabled  her  to  make  with  the  shallow  music  of  Bel- 
lini caused  Wagner  to  become  doubtful  as  to  the 
right  method  of  attaining  success.  He  was  powerfully 
impressed  with  the  importance  of  the  dramatic  ele- 
ment in  operatic  performance.  The  Leipsic  Theatre 
next  produced  Auber's  "La  Muette  de  Portici,"  and 
again  Wagner  was  astonished.  Here  he  saw  an 
opera  in  which  rapid  action,  fiery  impulse,  and  the 
manifestations  of  a  revolutionary  spirit  achieved  as 
strong  an  effect  upon  an  audience  as  had  the  potent 
acting  and  singing  of  Schroeder-Devrient. 

The  light,  spontaneous  melody  of  Bellini  seemed 
to  him  to  express  more  directly  the  spirit  of  young 
life  than  the  heavy  music  of  the  Germans  ;  the  plan 
of  Auber's  work  impressed  him  as  well  fitted  for 
combination  with  the  style  and  character  of  the 
Italian   music.      A   union   of  the  two,    he  thought. 


The  First  Operas  19 

would  lead  toward  a  true  embodiment  of  the  spirit 
of  the  time,  and  so  reach  swiftly  the  public  heart. 
The  joy  of  life  now  became  his  battle  cry.  He  steeped 
his  soul  in  the  physical  literature  of  the  time.  He 
read  with  avidity  the  works  of  Wilhelm  Heinse,  "the 
apostle  of  the  highest  artistic  and  lowest  sensual 
pleasures,  amongst  all  the  authors  of  the  last  century 
the  one  endowed  with  the  warmest  enthusiasm  and 
finest  comprehension  for  music."*  "I  was  then 
twenty-one  years  of  age,"  wrote  Wagner,  "inclined 
to  take  life  and  the  world  on  their  pleasant  side. 
'  Ardinghello'  (Heinse)  and  'Das  junge  Europa ' 
(Laube)  tingled  through  every  limb,  while  Germany 
appeared  in  my  eyes  a  very  tiny  portion  of  the  earth." 
Ludwig  Borne,  Carl  Gutzgow,  Gustav  Konig,  and 
last  of  all,  Heinrich  Heine,  became  influences  in  his 
daily  life  and  thought.  The  utmost  freedom  in  pol- 
itics, morals,  and  literature,  the  most  passionate 
physical  enjoyment  of  the  fleeting  moment,  were 
taught  by  these  authors,  to  whom  the  reactionary 
movement  in  France  against  all  moral  and  artistic  law 
seemed  most  attractive.  Mysticism  ceased  to  charm 
Wagner,  and  he  turned  to  revolutionary  freedom 
in  thought  as  the  highest  possible  good. 

With  these  ideas  seething  in  his  mind  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1834,  while  spending  his  holiday  at  Teplitz, 
he  sketched  the  plot  of  his  next  opera,  "  Das  Liebes- 
verbot  [Prohibition  of  Love]  or  the  Novice  of  Palermo." 
In  the  fall  he  was  obliged  to  accept  a  position  as  con- 
ductor in  a  small  operatic  theatre  in  Magdeburg.  There 
he  found  in  the  ease  with  which  public  success  was 

*  "  Richard  Wagner,  a  Sketch  of  his  Life  and  Works,"  by  Franz 
Muncker.     Bamberg,   1891. 


20  Richard  Wagner 

attained  by  trivial  works  further  encouragement  for  the 
revolt  in  his  soul.  He  discharged  his  duties  as  conduct- 
or with  the  greatest  pleasure,  and  took  much  trouble 
to  give  an  impressive  performance  of  Auber's  "  Les- 
tocq."  He  had  his  "  Feen "  overture  played,  and 
also  an  overture  of  his  own  to  Apel's  drama,  "Christo- 
pher Columbus."  He  made  a  New  Year's  piece  out 
of  the  andante  of  his  symphony  and  some  songs  taken 
from  a  musical  farce.  But  meanwhile  he  worked 
assiduously  at  the  score  of  his  new  opera,  with  Auber 
as  his  model  and  Schroeder-Devrientas  his  hope. 

The  foundation  of  the  story  was  taken  from  Shakes- 
peare's "  Measure  for  Measure,"  but  Wagner  altered 
the  plot  so  as  to  introduce  the  revolutionary  element 
which  at  that  time  played  so  conspicuous  a  part  in  his 
fancies.  In  a  "Communication  to  My  Friends" 
Wagner  many  years  afterward  thus  described  his 
opera:  "  It  was  Isabella  that  inspired  me;  she  who 
leaves  her  novitiate  in  the  cloister  to  plead  with  a 
hard-hearted  Stateholder  for  mercy  for  her  brother, 
who  in  pursuance  of  a  draconic  edict  has  been  con- 
demned to  death  for  entering  on  a  forbidden,  yet 
Nature-hallowed,  love-bond  with  a  maiden.  Isabella's 
chaste  soul  urges  on  the  stony  judge  such  cogent  rea- 
sons for  pardoning  the  offence,  her  agitation  helps  her 
to  paint  these  reasons  in  such  entrancing  warmth  of 
colour  that  the  stern  protector  of  morals  is  himself 
seized  with  passionate  love  for  the  superb  woman. 
This  sudden,  flaming  passion  proclaims  itself  by  his 
promising  the  pardon  of  the  brother  as  the  price  of  the 
lovely  sister's  favours.  Aghast  at  this  proposal,  Isa- 
bella takes  refuge  in  artifice  to  unmask  the  hypocrite 
and  save  her  brother.     The  Stateholder,  whom  she 


The  First  Operas  21 

has  vouchsafed  a  fictitious  indulgence,  still  thinks  to 
withhold  the  stipulated  pardon  so  as  not  to  sacrifice  his 
stern  judicial  conscience  to  a  passing  lapse  from  vir- 
tue. Shakespeare  disentangles  the  resulting  situation 
by  means  of  the  public  return  of  the  Duke,  who  had 
hitherto  observed  events  from  under  a  disguise;  his 
decision  is  an  earnest  one,  and  grounded  on  the 
judge's  maxim,  'measure  for  measure.'  I,  on  the 
other  hand,  unloosed  the  knot  without  the  Prince's 
aid  by  means  of  a  revolution.  The  scene  of  action  I 
transferred  to  the  capital  of  Sicily,  in  order  to  bring  in 
the  Southern  heat  of  blood  to  help  me  with  my 
scheme;  I  also  made  the  Stateholder,  a  Puritanical 
German,  forbid  a  projected  carnival;  while  a  madcap 
youngster,  in  love  with  Isabella,  incites  the  populace 
to  mask  and  keep  their  weapons  ready:  'Who  will 
not  dance  at  our  behest,  your  steel  shall  pierce  him 
through  the  breast!'  The  Stateholder,  himself  in- 
duced by  Isabella  to  come  disguised  to  their  rendez- 
vous, is  discovered,  unmasked,  and  hooted;  the  brother 
in  the  nick  of  time  is  freed  by  force  from  the  execu- 
tioner's hands;  Isabella  renounces  her  novitiate  and 
gives  her  hand  to  the  young  leader  of  the  carnival.  In 
full  procession  the  maskers  go  forth  to  meet  their 
home-returning  Prince,  assured  that  he  will  at  least  not 
govern  them  so  crookedly  as  had  his  deputy." 

One  has  no  difficulty  in  tracing  in  this  arrangement 
of  the  story  the  ideas  that  lay  uppermost  in  Wagner's 
mind  at  the  time.  The  heavy,  hypocritical  governor 
was  a  hit  at  his  own  countrymen,  and  the  free  life  of 
the  Sicilians  was  his  embodiment  of  the  sensuousness 
which  he  had  learned  from  his  recent  readings  to 
admire.      Auber's    "Muette   de    Portici"    no   doubt 


2  2  Richard  Wagner 

suggested  the  theatrical  value  of  the  revolution,  and  as 
he  himself  says  in  his  account  of  the  writing  and  pro- 
duction of  this  opera:  "  Recollections  of  the  'Sicilian 
Vespers'  may  have  had  something  to  do  with  it;  and 
when  1  think  finally  that  the  gentle  Sicilian  Bellini 
may  also  be  counted  among  the  factors  of  this  compo- 
sition, 1  positively  have  to  laugh  at  the  amazing  quid- 
pro-quo  into  which  these  extraordinary  conceptions 
shaped  themselves."  * 

The  score  of  the  opera  was  finished  in  the  winter  of 
1835-36.  The  composer,  who  was  entitled  to  a  bene- 
fit as  conductor  toward  the  close  of  the  season,  natu- 
rally hoped  to  bring  forward  his  work  on  that  occasion. 
Unfortunately  the  manager  was  in  arrears  of  salary  to 
many  of  the  company,  and  some  of  the  principal 
artists  gave  notice  of  their  intended  departure  before 
the  end  of  March.  Wagner,  who  was  liked  by  all  of 
them,  succeeded  in  persuading  them  to  stay  a  few 
days  longer  and  to  endeavour  hastily  to  prepare  his 
opera.  Ten  days  were  available  for  rehearsals.  By 
dint  of  shouting,  gesticulating,  and  singing  with  the 
singers,  Wagner  persuaded  himself  and  them  into 
thinking  that  the  opera  was  in  shape  for  production. 
There  was  a  good  advance  sale  of  seats,  but  the  man- 
ager stepped  in  and  claimed  the  first  performance  of 
the  work  for  himself,  and  so  Wagner  was  perforce 
content  to  wait  for  the  second  for  his  benefit. 

*  Wagner  wrote  a  long  account  of  the  conception,  composition,  and 
production  of  this  juvenile  work.  It  may  be  found  in  his  collected 
prose  writings,  translated  by  W.  Ashton  Ellis.  The  translation  from 
which  these  words  are  taken  is  in  "  Art,  Life,  and  Theories  of  Richard 
Wagner,"  by  E.  L.  Burlingame.  In  speaking  of  the  "  Sicilian  Ves- 
pers," Wagner  refers  to  history,  not  to  Verdi's  opera,  which  was  not 
produced  till  1855. 


The  First  Operas  23 

The  first  performance  on  March  29,  1836,  was,  ac- 
cording to  Wagner's  own  account  of  it,  absolutely 
incomprehensible.  There  were  no  libretti,  and  the 
singers  were  so  uncertain  of  both  text  and  music  that 
no  one  could  learn  the  story  of  the  work  from  them. 
This  was  probably  well  for  Wagner  in  one  way,  for  the 
censor  had  passed  the  book  on  Wagner's  assurance  that 
the  subject  was  from  Shakespeare,  and  as  the  audience 
did  not  know  what  it  was  all  about,  no  unfavour- 
able comment  was  made  on  the  licentious  story.  At 
the  second  performance,  owing  to  the  apparent  incom- 
prehensibility of  the  work  when  first  heard,  there 
were  three  persons  in  the  auditorium,  two  of  whom 
were  the  composer's  landlord  and  landlady.  Before 
the  curtain  went  up,  the  husband  of  the  prima  donna, 
jealous  of  the  tenor,  set  upon  that  singer  and  beat  him 
so  that  he  had  to  be  carried  from  the  theatre.  The 
prima  donna  tried  to  interfere  and  she  was  also  as- 
saulted by  her  husband.  A  general  fight  seemed  im- 
minent, and  the  manager  went  before  the  curtain  to 
tell  the  audience  of  three  that  "  owing  to  various  ad- 
verse circumstances  which  had  arisen  the  opera  could 
not  be  given."  Wagner  subsequently  offered  this 
opera  to  managers  in  Leipsic  and  Berlin,  but  it  was 
not  accepted.  Later  in  Paris  he  contemplated  a  per- 
formance at  the  Theatre  de  la  Renaissance,  and  a 
translation  of  the  text  was  begun.  But,  as  Wagner 
tells  us,  "Everything  promised  well,  when  the  Theatre 
de  la  Renaissance  became  bankrupt!  All  trouble, 
all  hopes  had  therefore  been  in  vain.  I  now  gave  up 
my  '  Liebesverbot '  entirely  ;  1  felt  that  I  could  not 
respect  myself  any  longer  as  its  composer." 

Mr.  Finck  recounts  an  interesting  conversation  he 


24 


Richard  Wagner 


had  with  Heinrich  Vogl,  the  eminent  Wagnerian 
tenor,  in  1891.  Vogl  said  that  after  the  success  of 
"Die  Feen"  at  Munich  it  was  thought  that  "Das 
Liebesverbot  "  might  also  be  given,  and  a  rehearsal 
was  held.  The  "  ludicrous  and  undisguised  imitation 
of  Donizetti  and  other  popular  composers  of  that  time  " 
caused  general  laughter,*  but  it  was  really  the  licenti- 
ous character  of  the  libretto  that  brought  about  an  aban- 
donment of  the  plan  to  perform  the  work.  But  the 
composer  had  not  yet  found  himself,  and  this  was  one 
of  his  attempts  to  reach  success  as  others  had  reached 
it,  without  any  realisation  of  the  vital  fact  that  he  was 
not  artistically  constituted  as  they  were. 

The  failure  of  the  Magdeburg  Theatre  once  more 
threw  Wagner  on  his  own  resources.  He  had  bor- 
rowed money  recklessly,  hoping  to  pay  it  from  the 
proceeds  of  the  performance  of  his  opera.  Poor 
Wagner  !  All  his  life  he  was  ahead  of  his  income, 
and  no  amount  of  experience  could  teach  him  to  man- 

*  Nevertheless  there  are  passages  which  suggest  the  future  Wagner. 
Note  this  curious  resemblance  between  a  part  of  the  chorus  of  nuns  in 
"  Das  Liebesverbot  "  and  the  so-called  "feast  of  grace  "theme  in 
"  Tannhauser." 


LIEBESVERBOT. 


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TANNHAUSER. 


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The  First  Operas  25 

age  his  finances.  He  went  to  Berlin  to  offer  the 
"  Liebesverbot  "  to  the  opera,  but  without  success, 
and  then  he  heard  that  there  was  an  opening  as  musi- 
cal director  at  the  Konigsberg  Theatre.  To  that  city, 
therefore,  he  went  in  the  hope  of  securing  the  post. 
His  Magdeburg  friends,  Frau  Pollert,  the  prima  donna, 
and  Wilhelmina  Planer,  the  actress,  had  found  em- 
ployment there,  and  the  young  composer  was  drawn 
after  the  second  of  these  women  by  ties  soon  to  be- 
come closer.  He  wrote  to  his  friend  Dorn  to  ask  his 
aid,  but  it  seems  that  the  good  Heinrich  was  unable  to 
do  anything  for  him.  Nevertheless  the  Konigsberg 
post  was  given  to  him  and  he  began  his  duties  in 
January,  1837,  ^^^er  nine  months  of  idleness.  Before 
taking  this  position  Wagner  had  done  two  things 
which  must  now  be  recorded.  He  had  written  his 
first  prose  essay,  and  he  had  married.  The  essay  con- 
tained some  unwise  comments  on  the  "  Euryanthe  " 
of  Weber,  whom  Wagner  as  a  boy  had  venerated. 
He  subsequently  experienced  a  second  change  of 
heart  in  regard  to  this  composer.  He  had  a  change  of 
heart,  too,  in  regard  to  his  wife,  also  partly  on  artistic 
grounds.  Glasenapp  says  of  this  hasty  and  ill-fated 
union  : 

"  The  link  was  now  forged  that  bound  his  future  to 
a  helpmate  with  whom  he  had  the  smallest  possible 
community  of  inner  feeling.  Beyond  doubt,  he 
brought  her  that  genuine  affection  which  survived  the 
hardest  trials  it  ever  was  put  to;  beyond  doubt,  the 
pretty,  young,  and  popular  actress  meant  well  by 
the  ardent  young  conductor  when  she  joined  her  hand 
with  hisata  time  of  so  little  outward  prospect;  beyond 
doubt  she  expected  much  from  his  abilities.     .     .     . 


26  Richard  Wagner 

Any  profounder  sense  of  the  enormous  artistic  signifi- 
cance of  her  husband  never  dawned  upon  her,  either 
in  this  cloudy  period  or  at  a  later  date  ;  and  though 
she  made  him  loving  sacrifices,  she  neither  had  the 
blissful  satisfaction  of  knowing  to  whom  they  were 
offered,  nor  of  affording  the  struggling  artist  a  sympa- 
thetic ear  in  which  to  pour  his  deeper  woes.  Wagner 
never  forgot  how  she  bore  the  trials  of  the  next  few 
changeful  years  without  a  murmur;  nevertheless,  this 
precipitate  marriage  of  two  natures  so  immiscible 
dragged  after  it  an  almost  endless  chain  of  sorrows 
and  internal  conflicts." 


CHAPTER  III 

KONIGSBERG    AND   RIGA 

"  To  extricate  myself  from  the  petty  commerce  of  the  German  stage." 

Wagner 

Minna  Planer,  as  she  was  called,  was  the  daughter 
of  a  spindle-maker,  and  according  to  Praeger,*  who 
knew  her  well,  went  on  the  stage  not  because  she 
was  endowed  with  histrionic  talent,  but  because  it 
was  necessary  for  her  to  contribute  to  the  support  of 
her  father's  family.  Wagner  had  become  engaged  to 
her  while  at  Magdeburg,  and  he  married  her  on  Nov. 
24,  1836,  at  Konigsberg.  He  was  twenty-three  years 
old  and  the  wisdom  of  his  marriage  was  what  might 
have  been  expected  of  a  boy.  From  all  the  testimony 
it  appears  that  the  first  wife  of  Richard  Wagner  was 
a  good,  gentle,  loving  woman,  devoted  to  him  in  a 
mild,  unimpassioned  manner,  and  utterly  incapable  of 
understanding  him.  At  the  outset  of  their  married 
life,  she  was  almost  as  improvident  as  he,  and  the 
burden  of  debt  which  he  had  accumulated  at  Magde- 
burg grew  larger  at  Konigsberg.  Later  at  Riga  these 
two  poor  children  lived  in  a  house  in  the  outskirts  of 
a  town  and  had  to  take  a  cab  whenever  they  went  to 
the  theatre  ! 

*  "  Wagner  as  1  Knew  Him,"  by  Ferdinand  Praeger,  New  York,  1892. 
27 


28  Richard  Wagner 

In  later  years  Minna  learned  the  meaning  of  economy, 
and  she  struggled  bravely  to  make  both  ends  meet, 
when  there  was  nothing  but  ends.  But  never  did  she 
perceive  the  genius  of  her  husband,  and  for  that  rea- 
son she  was  always  impatient  with  his  dreams  of 
great  achievements,  when  money  could  have  been 
earned  by  prosaic  labour  at  the  expense  of  hazy  aspira- 
tions. A  woman  of  tender  eye  and  sweet  speech, 
she  commanded  the  sympathy  of  Wagner's  friends, 
and  it  was  indeed  a  fatal  misfortune  for  this  gentle 
dove  that  she  was  mismated  with  an  eagle.  Certainly 
she  suffered  much  and  bore  with  patience,  not  only 
the  privations  of  domestic  life  in  straitened  circum- 
stances, but  also  the  waywardness  and  eccentricities 
of  a  mind  beyond  her  comprehension.  Praeger 
says : 

"As  years  rolled  by  and  the  genius  of  Wagner  as- 
sumed more  definite  shape  and  grew  in  strength,  she 
was  less  able  to  comprehend  the  might  of  his  intellect. 
To  have  written  the  '  Novice  of  Palermo '  at  twenty- 
three  and  to  have  been  received  so  cordially  was  to  her 
unambitious  heart  the  zenith  of  success.  More  than 
that  she  could  not  understand,  nor  did  she  ever  realise 
the  extent  of  the  wondrous  gifts  of  her  husband. 
After  tv/enty  years  of  wedded  life  it  was  much  the 
same.  We  were  sitting  at  lunch  in  the  trimly  kept 
Swiss  chalet  at  Zurich  in  the  summer  of  1856,  waiting 
for  the  composer  of  the  then  completed  '  Rienzi,' 
'Dutchman,'  'Tannhiiuser'  and  'Lohengrin  '  to  come 
down  from  his  scoring  of  the  '  Nibelungen,'  when  in 
full  innocence  she  asked  me,  'Now,  honestly,  is 
Richard  such  a  great  genius  ? '  On  another  occasion, 
when  he  was  bitterly  animadverting  on  his  treatment 


Konigsberg  and  Riga  29 

by  the  public,  she  said,  '  Well,  Richard,  why  don't 
you  write  something  for  the  gallery  ?  '  " 

That  there  was  another  side  to  the  story  is  certain. 
From  the  beginning,  though  tender  and  considerate  of 
his  wife  when  at  her  side,  and  fully  awake  to  her  ex- 
cellencies, Wagner  was  a  victim  of  those  irregulari- 
ties of  temperament  which  seem  inseparable  from 
genius,  especially  musical  genius.  He  was  inconstant 
as  the  wind,  a  rover,  a  faithless  husband.  His  mis- 
doings amounted  to  more  than  peccadilloes.  He  was 
guilty  of  many  liaisons  and  the  Sybaritic  character  of 
his  self-indulgences  increased  as  the  years  went  by. 
It  is  not  possible  to  give  the  details  of  these  secrets  of 
Wagner's  life;  but  it  must  suffice  to  say  that  while 
Minna  was  unsuited  to  him  through  her  inability  to 
understand  him,  she  was  more  sinned  against  than 
sinning.  She  was  a  faithful  and  devoted  wife,  patient 
in  adversity  and  modest  in  prosperity.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  say  the  same  of  him  as  a  husband.  For 
twenty-five  years  they  struggled  along  together,  and 
the  history  of  their  existence  makes  one  sympathise 
deeply  with  this  sweet  little  woman.  Enduring  the 
most  bitter  privations,  she  saw  a  husband,  who  could 
have  earned  a  good  living  by  writing  for  the  popular 
taste,  deliberately  refusing  to  do  so  and  following  the 
promptings  of  what  must  have  seemed  to  her  the 
wildest  dreams.  This  same  husband  was  also  luxuri- 
ous in  habit,  and  was  always  deeply  in  debt.  The 
wolf  was  continually  at  the  Wagner  door,  even  when 
the  master  had  what  to  a  less  fastidious  person  would 
have  seemed  abundance.  Wagner,  on  the  other  hand, 
must  have  hungered  and  thirsted  for  a  companion  who 
would  understand  his  ideals  and  his  purposes,  and  be 


30  Richard  Wagner 

willing  to  wait  with  him  for  the  triumph  that  was 
sure  to  come.  That  these  two  ill-mated  persons 
would  separate  was  almost  inevitable.  It  may  be 
briefly  recorded  at  this  point  that  they  did  separate  in 
August,  1861.  Minna  went  to  live  in  Dresden,  where 
she  died  on  Jan.  25,  1866. 

The  grip  of  poverty  in  Konigsberg  seems  to  have 
strangled  the  voice  of  Wagner's  muse.  He  says  in 
the  Autobiography:  "The  year  which  1  spent  in 
Konigsberg  was  completely  lost  to  my  art  by  reason 
of  the  pressure  of  petty  cares.  1  wrote  one  solitary 
overture:  'Rule  Britannia.'"  He  wrote  also  about 
this  time  an  overture  entitled  "  Polonia."  The  former 
is  lost,  but  the  Wagner  family  has  the  manuscript  of 
the  latter.  The  state  of  the  composer's  mind,  and  the 
actions  to  which  it  led  are  now  best  told  in  the  "  Com- 
munication to  My  Friends": 

"One  strong  desire  then  arose  in  me,  and  developed  into  an  all- 
consuming  passion  :  to  force  my  way  out  from  the  paltry  squalor  of 
my  situation.  This  desire,  hov/ever,  was  busied  only  in  the  second 
line  with  actual  life  ;  its  front  rank  made  towards  a  brilliant  course  as 
artist.  To  extricate  myself  from  the  petty  commerce  of  the  German 
stage,  and  straightway  try  my  luck  in  Paris  :  this,  in  a  word,  was  the 
goal  1  set  before  me.  A  romance  by  H.  Konig,  '  Die  Hohe  Braut,'  had 
fallen  into  my  hands  ;  everything  which  I  read  had  only  an  interest  for 
me  when  viewed  in  the  light  of  its  adaptability  for  an  operatic  subject : 
in  my  mood  of  that  time,  the  reading  of  this  novel  attracted  me  the 
more,  as  it  soon  conjured  up  in  my  eyes  the  vision  of  a  grand  opera  in 
five  acts  for  Paris.  1  drafted  a  complete  sketch  and  sent  it  direct  to 
Scribe  in  Paris  with  the  prayer  that  he  would  work  it  up  for  the  Grand 
Opera  there  and  get  me  appointed  for  its  composition.  Naturally  this 
project  ended  in  smoke." 

The  history  of  Wagner's  first  attempt  to  reach  the 
goal  of  the  opera  composer  of  his  day,  the  stage  of  the 
Grand  Opera  in  Paris,  is  worthy  of  particular  note.    He 


Konigsberg  and  Riga  31 

despatched  the  manuscript  and  a  letter  for  Scribe  to 
his  brother-in-law,  Friedrich  Brockhaus,  to  send  to 
Paris.  Hearing  nothing,  he  wrote  again  six  months 
later,  and  sent  to  Scribe  a  copy  of  the  score  of  "Das 
Liebesverbot "  as  a  specimen  of  his  work.  Scribe 
answered  this  letter  courteously  and  expressed  interest 
in  Wagner  and  his  music.  The  composer  again  sent 
him  a  copy  of  the  scenario  of  "Die  Hohe  Braut,"  but 
put  it  into  the  post  without  any  stamps  and  so  never 
heard  of  it  again,  nor  received  an  answer  from  Scribe. 
These  facts  were  recorded  in  an  old  note  book  in  which 
Wagner  made  first  draughts  of  his  letters.  The  letter 
giving  this  information  was  addressed  to  one  Lewald, 
a  Leipsic  journalist  who  had  lived  in  Paris,  and,  after 
reciting  the  facts,  Wagner  asked  him  to  find  out 
whether  Scribe  had  received  the  second  letter  and 
whether  he  was  still  favourably  inclined.  If  so,  Wagner 
said,  he  had  another  operatic  plan  in  his  mind,  the 
book  of  "  Rienzi,"  which  was  just  the  thing  for  Paris. 
This  letter  was  published  in  the  Frankfurter  Zeitung, 
and  will  be  found  quoted  in  Mr.  Finck's  "Wagner." 
Nothing  came  of  this  correspondence,  and  Wagner 
was  fated  not  to  enter  Paris  till  some  time  later,  and 
then  to  find  it  a  city  of  continual  disappointment. 

In  the  spring  the  Konigsberg  Theatre  failed  and 
again  Wagner  was  out  of  employment.  Like  many 
other  theatrical  folk,  the  moment  his  salary  stopped 
he  was  in  straits.  So  once  more  he  called  upon  Dorn 
for  help.  This  critic  had  written  of  the  "Rule  Brit- 
annia "  overture  that  it  was  a  medley  of  Bach,  Bee- 
thoven, and  Bellini,  but  he  still  had  faith  in  the  genius 
of  Wagner.  So  through  his  influence  Wagner  was 
appointed  director  of  music  in  the  theatre  at  Riga,  on 


32  Richard  Wagner 

the  Russian  side  of  the  Baltic,  under  Karl  von  Holtei 
as  manager.  Wagner's  wife  and  her  sister,  Theresa 
Planer,  were  also  engaged  for  the  comedy  perform- 
ances, Riga  was  a  more  prosperous  town  than  either 
Magdeburg  or  Konigsberg  and  at  first  Wagner,  de- 
lighted with  the  higher  salary,  set  to  work  with  evident 
pleasure.  The  material  in  the  company  was  good,  and 
the  composer  was  sufficiently  interested  in  the  singers 
to  write  several  airs  for  them.  He  also  conducted  ten 
orchestral  concerts,  at  which  his  overtures,  "Rule 
Britannia"  and  "Columbus,"  were  performed.  He 
began 'to  write  a  comic  opera  entitled  "Die  Gliick- 
liche  Barenfamilie  "  ("The  Happy  Bear  Family")  for 
which  he  found  the  material  in  a  story  in  the  "Arabian 
Nights."  "1  had  only  composed  two  numbers  for 
this,"  he  says,  "when  1  was  disgusted  to  find  that  I 
was  again  on  the  high  road  to  music-making  a  la 
Adam.  My  spirit,  my  deeper  feelings,  were  wounded 
by  this  discovery,  and  1  laid  aside  the  work  in  horror. 
The  daily  studying  and  conducting  of  Auber's,  Adam's, 
and  Bellini's  music  contributed  its  share  to  a  speedy 
undoing  of  my  frivolous  delight  in  such  an  enter- 
prise." 

That  inexpressible  dissatisfaction  with  the  extant 
state  of  the  theatre,  which  finally  made  Wagner  the 
reformer  of  the  lyric  drama,  was  already  at  work. 
The  purely  commercial  spirit  of  the  play-house  was 
rapidly  becoming  intolerably  antagonistic  to  him.  He 
held  himself  aloof  from  the  actors.  He  lived  far  away 
from  the  theatre.  He  shut  himself  up  within  himself, 
and  he  began  to  cherish  dreams  of  breaking  the  sordid 
bondage  of  the  German  stage  and  reaching  out  into  a 
broader  and  more  vigorous  artistic  atmosphere.     He 


Konigsberg  and  Riga  33 

laboured  assiduously  at  Riga  for  good  performances. 
The  manager  begged  him  not  to  overwork  the  singers, 
but  the  singers  liked  his  enthusiasm  and  seconded  his 
efforts.  At  this  time,  in  his  unsettled  state  of  mind, 
he  worshipped  Bellini,  and  exalted  the  Italian  song 
above  all  other  forms  of  operatic  music.  He  had 
"Norma"  performed  for  his  benefit  on  Dec.  ii,  1837. 
He  wrote  articles  praising  Bellini,  and  his  enemies 
delighted  to  quote  these  forty  years  later  as  evidence 
of  Wagner's  inconsistency.  This  undeveloped  youth 
of  twenty-four  was  groping  for  the  path  toward 
which  his  genius  impelled  him.  That  he  could  not 
find  it  at  once  was  not  remarkable.  He  needed  the 
discipline  of  a  larger  experience  and  a  closer  contact 
with  the  great  world.  As  yet  he  had  been  but  play- 
ing in  the  nursery.  His  first  pointed  lessons  were 
about  to  be  received. 

In  the  spring  of  1839  his  contract  with  Holtei  ex- 
pired. He  could  not  find  employment.  He  even  wrote 
to  the  director  of  the  theatre  offering  to  return  as  as- 
sistant director  or  copyist,  in  fact,  to  do  anything  ex- 
cept, as  he  ironically  said,  black  boots  or  carry  water. 
Nothing  came  of  all  this,  and  debts  began  to  press 
heavily  on  this  most  improvident  of  men.  He  had  a 
grand  opera  partly  written.  It  was  made  on  the  Mey- 
erbeerian  last,  and  that  was  fashionable  in  Paris. 
Thither  he  determined  to  go.  But  when  he  endeav- 
oured to  leave  Riga,  he  could  not  get  a  passport  be- 
cause of  his  debts.  So  with  his  wife  and  his  dog,  he 
stole  away  like  a  thief  in  the  night.  Minna  went 
across  the  border  into  Germany  disguised  as  the  wife 
of  a  lumberman.  Wagner  himself  was  aided  by  a 
Konigsberg  friend,  Abraham  Moller,  who  hid  him  in 


34  Richard  Wagner 

an  empty  sentry  box  till  he  could  slip  past  the  pickets 
on  the  boundary  line.  This  same  Moller  went  with 
him  to  the  port  of  Pillau,  where  he,  his  wife,  and  his 
dog  embarked  on  a  sailing  vessel  for  London,  thence 
to  descend  upon  Paris,*  Paris  was  to  be  assailed  with 
one  opera  completed  and  another  half  done.  This  sec- 
ond work  was  ' '  Rienzi. "  During  the  years  of  struggle 
at  Magdeburg,  Konigsberg,  and  Riga,  while  searching 
for  material  for  a  grand  opera  book,  he  had  read  Bul- 
wer's  novel,  "  Rienzi,"  and  the  subject  seemed  to  him 
to  be  promising.  The  grandeur  of  the  plan  and  the 
opportunities  for  operatic  effects  fired  his  mind,  and  in 
the  summer  of  1838  he  began  the  libretto.  At  Riga, 
when  he  was  holding  himself  aloof  from  the  surround- 
ings of  the  theatre,  he  was  at  work  composing  the 
music,  and  in  the  spring  of  1839  the  first  two  acts  were 
finished.  He  had  aimed  to  make  this  an  imposing 
work,  too  grand  in  plan  for  production  at  a  pro- 
vincial German  theatre.  So  it  was  with  this  uncom- 
pleted score  that  he  put  to  sea,  a  sea  far  vaster  than 
he  at  the  time  imagined  it  to  be.  For  before  leaving 
Riga  he  had  fallen  upon  Heine's  version  of  the  legend 
of  the  "Flying  Dutchman,"  and  this  sea  voyage  was 
to  make  the  story  vital  in  his  mind  and  inspire  him 
with  the  music  for  the  first  work  in  which  the  Wag- 
ner of  the  immortal  dramas  was  revealed.  He  says  in 
the  autobiography: 

"This  voyage  I  never  shall  forget  as  long  as  I  live; 
it  lasted  three  and  a  half  weeks  and  was  rich  in  mis- 
haps. Thrice  did  we  endure  the  most  violent  of 
storms,  and  once  the  captain  found  himself  compelled 

*Mr.  Finck,  who  relates  these  facts,  obtained  them  from  articles  in 
the  Frankfurter  Zeitiing  and  from  some  of  Dorn's  writings. 


Konigsberg  and  Riga  35 

to  put  into  a  Norwegian  haven.  The  passage  among 
the  crags  of  Norway  made  a  wonderful  impression  on 
my  fancy;  the  legends  of  the  Flying  Dutchman,  as  I 
heard  them  from  the  seamen's  mouths,  were  clothed 
for  me  in  a  distinct  and  individual  colour,  borrowed 
from  the  adventures  of  the  ocean  through  which  I 
was  then  passing." 

But  at  length  London  was  reached,  and  Wagner, 
Minna,  and  the  great  Newfoundland  dog  were  set 
down  at  a  comfortless  little  hotel  in  Old  Compton 
Street,  Soho,  a  dozen  doors  from  Wardour  Street, 
with  the  purlieus  of  Seven  Dials  on  one  side  of  them 
and  Oxford  and  Regent  Streets  within  a  few  minutes' 
walk.*  His  first  experience  in  the  capital  of  Great 
Britain  was  the  loss  of  his  magnificent  Newfoundland 
dog,  to  which  he  was  much  attached.  Fortunately 
the  intelligent  beast  found  its  master.  Wagner  was 
not  far  away  from  the  house  in  which  Weber  had 
lived  when  he  was  in  London,  and  "to  that  shrine  he 
made  his  first  pilgrimage."  He  visited  the  Naval  Hos- 
pital at  Greenwich  and  was  duly  impressed  by  the 
sight  of  the  shipping  on  the  Thames.  He  went  over 
the  hospital  ship  Dreadnanght,  one  of  Nelson's  old 
fleet,  and  he  visited  Westminster  Abbey,  where  he 
paid  special  attention  to  the  Poets'  Corner.  Standing 
before  the  statue  of  Shakespeare,  he  was  carried  away 
into  a  long  reverie  on  the  manner  in  which  this  mas- 
ter had  triumphed  by  throwing  aside  all  the  rules  of 
the  old  classic  writers,  and  Praeger  sees  in  this  one  of 
the  germs  of  Wagner's  daring  reforms.  The  reverie 
ended  when  the  patient  Minna  plucked  him  by  the 

*  Praeger  is  the  only  authority  for  the  incidents  of  Wagner's  first 
visit  to  London. 


36  Richard  Wagner 

sleeve  and  said,  "Come,  dear  Richard,  you  have  been 
standing  here  for  twenty  minutes  like  one  of  these 
statues  and  not  uttering  a  word."  And  that  was 
about  the  substance  of  Wagner's  first  experience  in 
London.  He  says  in  his  autobiography  that  nothing 
interested  him  so  much  as  the  city  itself  and  the 
Houses  of  Parliament.  He  did  not  visit  a  single 
theatre. 

He  now  set  out  for  Paris  by  way  of  Boulogne,  and 
at  the  latter  place  he  tarried  four  weeks,  because  the 
most  influential  man  in  the  operatic  world  of  France, 
Giacomo  Meyerbeer,  was  there  enjoying  his  summer 
rest.  It  was  of  vital  importance  to  Wagner  to  make 
the  acquaintance  of  this  great  personage,  and  he  did 
not  think  that  the  expense  of  a  month's  stay  was  too 
much  to  pay  for  the  advantage.  Meyerbeer,  who  was 
not  averse  to  playing  the  dictator,  received  the  poor 
German  kindly,  and  after  reading  the  libretto  of 
"  Rienzi,"  praised  it  highly.  He  was  also  flattering 
in  his  commendation  of  the  two  acts  of  the  music 
which  Wagner  had  finished.  He  was  dubious  as  to 
the  future  of  this  young  man,  who  had  nothing  on 
which  to  live  while  he  lingered  about  the  gates  of  the 
mighty  in  Paris,  but  he  promised  to  do  what  he  could 
for  him.  He  said  that  letters  of  introduction  were 
well  enough  in  their  way,  but  that  persistence  was 
the  most  valuable  lever  to  success.  With  this  advice 
he  gave  Wagner  letters  to  Antenor  Jolly,  director  of 
the  Theatre  Renaissance,  which  produced  musical 
works  as  well  as  plays;  to  Leon  Pillet,  director  of  the 
Grand  Opera;  to  Schlesinger,  the  publisher,  and  to 
Habeneck,  the  famous  conductor. 

Armed  with  these  letters,  and  with  that  naive  trust 


Konigsberg  and  Riga  37 

in  the  future  which  deserted  him  only  in  his  equally 
naive  periods  of  utter  despondency,  Wagner  set  out 
for  Paris,  where  he  arrived  in  September,  1839.  Only 
twenty-six  years  old,  he  had  already  produced  two 
operas,  partly  written  a  third,  and  conceived  the  germ 
of  a  fourth,  which  was  to  make  him  famous.  His  ex- 
periences in  Paris  were  to  be  of  the  bitterest  kind,  but 
of  the  most  vital  importance  to  his  future  career.  He 
remained  in  the  French  capital  till  April  7,  1842,  and 
in  the  intervening  time  disclosed  himself  as  an  artist, 
although  as  a  man  he  nearly  starved.  Out  of  trials 
and  tribulations  are  great  spirits  moulded.  It  was 
necessary  for  Wagner  to  despair  of  pecuniary  success 
before  he  found  the  true  path  to  immortal  fame. 


CHAPTER   IV 

"THE   END   OF   A    MUSICIAN    IN    PARIS " 
"I,  poor  artist,  swore  eternal  fidelity  to  my  fatherland." — Wagner 

On  arriving  in  Paris  Wagner  took  a  furnished  apart- 
ment in  the  Rue  de  la  Tonnelerie.  This  was  in  an 
unfrequented  quarter,  but  the  house  was  said  to  have 
been  occupied  once  by  Moliere.  The  apartment  was 
cheap,  a  matter  of  much  moment  to  Wagner.  The 
young  man  at  once  started  out  with  his  letters  from 
Meyerbeer.  They  not  only  secured  him  an  offer  for 
the  immediate  performance  of  one  of  his  operas,  but 
they  also  opened  many  doors  to  him  and  insured  him 
a  pleasant  welcome.  It  is  quite  true,  as  Jullien*  notes, 
that  he  owed  all  he  ever  accomplished  in  Paris  to 
Meyerbeer  and  the  men  to  whom  he  had  Meyerbeer's 
letters.  In  the  beginning  everything  was  most  prom- 
ising. The  director  of  the  Renaissance  agreed  to  ac- 
cept "Das  Liebesverbot,"  and  Dumersan,  a  maker  of 
vaudevilles,  was  set  to  work  translating  it.  Schles- 
inger,  the  publisher,  induced  Habeneck,  the  conductor 
of  the  Conservatoire  concerts,  to  promise  to  try  a  new 
overture,  which  Wagner  had  just  completed.     This 

*"  Richard  Wagner,  His  Life  and  Works,"  by  Adolphe  Jullien; 
translated  by  Florence  Percival  Hall.  2  vols.  Boston,  the  J.  B. 
Millet  Co. 

38 


"The  End  of  a  Musician  in  Paris"     39 

was  the  work  afterward  known  as  "  Eine  Faust  Ouver- 
ture."  Wagner,  delighted  with  his  prospects,  moved 
to  No.  25,  Rue  du  Helder,  in  the  "heart  of  elegant 
and  artistic  Paris." 

But  suddenly  the  horizon  became  overclouded. 
The  Conservatory  orchestra  did,  indeed,  try  the  over- 
ture, and  Schlesinger  inserted  in  his  paper,  the  Gazette 
Musicale,  a  paragraph  saying,  "An  overture  by  a 
young  German  composer  of  very  remarkable  talent, 
M.  Wagner,  has  just  been  rehearsed  by  the  orchestra 
of  the  Conservatoire,  and  has  won  unanimous  ap- 
plause. We  hope  to  hear  it  immediately  and  we  will 
render  an  account  of  it."  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
Conservatory  orchestra  had  not  been  able  to  make 
head  or  tail  of  the  overture,  and  the  Theatre  de  la 
Renaissance,  instead  of  producing  the  '  *  Liebesverbot, " 
suddenly  failed  and  the  manager  closed  its  doors. 
Quite  disheartened  by  these  reverses  Wagner  laid 
aside  the  "Faust"  music,  which  he  had  intended  to 
make  the  first  movement  of  a  "Faust"  symphony. 
In  1855,  when  he  was  living  at  Zurich,  he  altered  this 
familiar  and  admired  overture  to  its  present  form. 

Adolphe  Jullien  in  his  life  of  Wagner  says  that  "  If 
we  have  only  an  overture  instead  of  a  complete  score 
of  'Faust,'  we  are  indebted  for  this  loss  to  the  gold- 
laced  musicians  of  the  Conservatoire  in  1840."  Jullien 
appears  to  have  supposed  that  Wagner  contemplated 
an  opera,  but  this  is  certainly  an  error.  On  Jan.  i, 
1855,  Franz  Liszt  wrote  to  Wagner  and  told  of  the 
completion  of  his  "Faust"  symphony.  In  his  reply 
to  this  letter  Wagner  said  : 

"  It  is  an  absurd  coincidence  that  just  at  this  time  I 
have  been   taken  with  a  desire  to  remodel  my  old 


40  Richard  Wagner 

'  Faust'  overture.  I  have  made  an  entirely  new  score, 
have  rewritten  the  instrumentation  throughout,  have 
made  many  changes,  and  have  given  more  expansion 
and  importance  to  the  middle  portion  (second  motive). 
1  shall  give  it  in  a  few  days  at  a  concert  here  under 
the  title  of  '  A  Faust  Overture.'     The  motto  will  be: 

'  Der  Gott,  der  mir  im  Buseii  wohnt, 
Kann  tief  mein  Innerstes  erregen  ; 
Der  iiber  alien  meinen  Kraften  thront, 
Er  kann  nach  aussen  nichts  bewegen  ; 
Und  so  ist  mir  das  Dasein  eine  Last, 
Der  Tod  erwiinscht,  das  Leben  mir  verhasst  ! '  * 

But  I  shall  not  publish  it  in  any  case." 

In  December  of  the  same  year,  nevertheless,  he 
wrote  to  Liszt  confessing  that  the  fiasco  of  the  work 
was  "a  purifying  and  wholesome  punishment"  for 
having  published  it  in  spite  of  his  better  judgment. 

Another  failure  of  the  unfortunate  Paris  period  was 
in  connection  with  a  grand  entertainment  which 
Parisians  were  organising  in  aid  of  the  Poles.  The 
entertainment  was  to  consist  of  the  performance  of 
an  opera,  on  the  subject  of  the  Due  de  Guise,  the 
libretto  written  by  "a  noble  amateur  and  set  to  music 
by  the  young  Flotow."  Wagner  took  the  score  of 
his  overture,  "Polonia, "  to  M.  Duvinage,  the  director 
of  the  orchestra,  but  this  gentleman  had  no  time  to 

*  The  God  that  in  my  breast  is  owned 
Can  deeply  stir  the  inner  sources  ; 
The  God  above  my  powers  enthroned, 
He  cannot  change  external  forces, 
So,  by  the  burden  of  my  days  oppressed, 
Death  is  desired,  and  Life  a  thing  unblest  ! 

Goethe's  ^^ Faust,'"  Act  I,  Scene 4. 
Bayard  Taylor's  translation. 


"The  End  of  a  Musician  in  Paris"    41 

examine  it.  It  may  as  well  be  recorded  here  that  this 
overture  was  lost  for  forty  years,  and  after  passing 
through  various  hands  came  to  rest  in  1881  in  the 
possession  of  M.  Pasdeloup,  the  famous  Parisian  con- 
ductor, from  whom  Wagner  recovered  it.  He  had  it 
played  in  that  year  to  celebrate  his  wife's  birthday. 

Wagner  was  now  in  dire  distress.  He  had  ex- 
pended all  his  resources,  and  he  could  not  pay  for  the 
furniture  of  his  apartment,  which  he  had  bought  on 
credit.  Schlesinger  came  to  his  aid  once  more,  and 
took  from  him  several  articles  for  the  Gaiette  Musicale. 
The  first  of  these,  "On  German  Music,"  appeared 
on  July  12  and  26,  1840.  A  translation  of  it  will  be 
found  in  Vol.  VII.  of  W.  Ashton  Ellis's  edition  of 
Wagner's  prose  works.  Schlesinger  had  also  at  this 
time  bought  the  score  of  Donizetti's  "La  Favorita," 
and  Wagner  was  set  to  work  making  a  piano  arrange- 
ment of  the  music.  Through  the  help  of  M.  Dumer- 
san,  who  had  begun  the  abandoned  translation  of 
"  Das  Liebesverbot  "  into  French,  he  obtained  a  com- 
mission to  write  music  to  a  vaudeville,  entitled  "La 
Descente  de  la  Courtille,"  which  Dumersan  and 
Dupeuty  had  written.  Gasparini  *  says  that  the  bouffe 
singers  of  that  time  were  incapable  of  singing  any- 
thing more  difficult  than  the  music  of  "La  Belle 
Helene"  and  they  quickly  decided  that  the  score  "of 
the  young  German  was  quite  impossible  of  execution. " 
Gasparini  also  notes  that  there  was  one  chanson, 
"  Allons  a  la  Courtille,"  which  had  "  its  hour  of  celeb- 
rity." M.  Jullien  is  probably  right  in  saying  that 
this  song  was  not  the  work  of  Wagner,  and  Mr.  Ed- 
ward Dannreuther  in  his  excellent  article  in  Grove's 
*  R.  Wagner,  par  A.  de  Gasparini,  Paris,  1866. 


42  Richard  Wagner 

"Dictionary  of  Music"  says  tiiat  it  has  not  been 
traced.  He  next  endeavoured  to  earn  a  few  francs  by 
writing  songs.  He  made  a  setting  of  a  translation  of 
Heinricli  Heine's  "Two  Grenadiers,"  but  it  was  not 
so  good  as  tliat  made  by  Scliumann  in  tlie  previous 
year,  and  singers  did  not  take  to  it  kindly.  He  com- 
posed also  at  this  time  "  L'Attente"  by  Victor  Hugo, 
"  Mignonne  "  by  Ronsard,  and  "Dors,  mon  enfant." 
Much  as  we  like  these  songs  now,  at  the  time  of  their 
composition  Wagner  could  not  get  them  sung  or  pub- 
lished. "  Mignonne "  was  printed  in  the  Gaiette 
Musicale,  and  with  two  others  was  afterward  re- 
printed in  Lewald's  Eiiropa.  Wagner  wrote  the 
editor  a  letter  begging  that  he  might  be  paid  for  them 
at  once.     They  brought  him  in  from  $2  to  $3.75  each. 

it  was  in  the  midst  of  these  trials  that  Wagner 
wrote  his  famous  story  entitled  "A  Pilgrimage  to 
Beethoven,"  which  attracted  the  attention  of  Hector 
Berlioz.  In  a  review  of  a  concert  organised  by  the 
Gaiette  Musicale  the  distinguished  Frenchman  spoke 
of  the  articles  in  that  paper,  and  said  :  "  For  a  long 
time  to  come  will  be  read  one  by  M.  Wagner,  entitled 
'  A  Pilgrimage  to  Beethoven.'  "  As  M.  Jullien  says, 
"Little  did  Berlioz  know  how  truly  he  spoke."  In 
-the  intervals  of  his  labours  at  breadwinning  Wagner 
worked  at  his  "Rienzi."  But  he  sank  deeper  and 
deeper  into  the  mire  of  poverty.  His  few  friends, 
Laube,  Heine,  and  Schlesinger,  could  do  little  to  cheer 
him,  though  the  last  named  furnished  him  with  the 
means  of  life.  Berlioz,  whom  he  had  met,  was  not 
sympathetic  to  him,  though  he  always  cherished  a 
high  regard  for  the  Frenchman's  talent. 

Schlesinger  again  came  to  the  rescue  and  decided  to 


"The  End  of  a  Musician  in  Paris"    43 

produce  at  one  of  the  Gaiette  Musicale  concerts  a 
composition  by  Wagner.  Tiie  "Columbus  "  overture 
was  accordingly  thus  performed  on  Feb.  4,  1841. 
Schumann  made  a  note  of  the  performance  in  his 
paper,  and  Wagner,  encouraged  by  this  remembrance 
of  him  in  Germany,  sent  the  score  to  London  to 
Jullien.  But  the  manuscript,  postage  unpaid,  came 
home  to  its  maker,  and  he  was  too  poor  to  take  it 
from  the  postman.  Accordingly  that  official  put  it 
back  into  his  bag  and  walked  off  with  it.  And  that 
was  the  last  that  was  seen  of  this  overture.  Wagner's 
cup  of  misery  seemed  now  to  be  brimming  over.  He 
abandoned  all  hope  of  success  in  the  volatile  French 
capital.  He  fled  from  his  accustomed  haunts,  shun- 
ned the  society  of  musicians,  all  mercenary  and  in- 
sincere as  they  seemed,  and  sought  that  of  scholars 
and  literary  men,  who  at  least  had  artistic  ideals.  He 
gave  up  all  hope  of  having  "  Rienzi "  produced  at  the 
Grand  Opera,  and  turned  his  weary  eyes  toward 
Dresden.  There  was  an  opera  with  an  inspiring  his- 
tory ;  a  theatre  with  a  long  established  routine  ;  and 
a  company  which  included  such  artists  as  Tichatschek 
and  Schroeder-Devrient. 

Meyerbeer  was  master  of  the  operatic  world  in 
Paris,  and  Wagner,  who  found  him  amiable  as  a  man, 
could  not  sympathise  with  the  blatant  theatricalism  of 
his  "  Les  Huguenots"  and  "Robert  le  Diable.  " 
Halevy,  he  felt,  had  suffered  his  pristine  enthusiasm 
to  fade  before  the  easy  temptation  of  monetary  suc- 
cess. Auber,  whom  he  had  once  loved  for  his 
"Muette,"  he  now  despised  for  his  unblushing  search 
after  popular  approval.  Only  Berlioz  pleased  him, 
and  he  not  fully.     "  He  difTers  by  the  whole  breadth 


44  Richard  Wagner 

of  heaven,"  he  says  in  the  autobiography,  "from  his 
Parisian  colleagues,  for  he  makes  no  music  for  gold. 
But  he  cannot  write  for  the  sake  of  purest  art  ;  he 
lacks  all  sense  of  beauty.  He  stands  completely 
isolated  upon  his  own  position  ;  by  his  side  he  has 
nothing  but  a  troupe  of  devotees,  who,  shallow,  and 
without  the  smallest  spark  of  judgment,  greet  in  him 
the  creator  of  a  brand  new  musical  system  and  com- 
pletely turn  his  head ; — the  rest  of  the  world  avoids 
him  as  a  madman.  "  In  Paris  he  met  Liszt,  who  was 
afterward  his  best  friend,  but  at  first  was  not  pleasing 
to  him.  He  heard  him  play  a  fantasia  on  airs  from 
"Robert  le  Diable  "  at  a  concert  in  honour  of  Bee- 
thoven, and  his  sincere  German  heart  was  outraged  at 
such  desecration.  He  felt  that  the  virtuoso  was  de- 
pendent on  the  public  fancy  and  shallowness,  and  he 
compared  his  own  independence  with  this  state  in  an 
article  entitled  "  Du  Metier  de  Virtuose  et  de  1'  Inde- 
pendence des  Compositeurs:  Fantasie  Eslhetique  d'un 
Musicien,"  which  he  published  in  the  Gazette  Musicale 
of  Oct.  18,  1840. 

On  Nov.  19  of  the  same  year  the  score  of  "  Rienzi  " 
was  completed,  and  on  Dec.  4  he  sent  it  to  Von 
Luttichau,  the  director  of  the  opera  at  Dresden,  ac- 
companied by  two  letters,  one  to  the  director  himself 
and  the  other  to  Friedrich  August  II,  King  of  Saxony. 
Neither  of  these  letters  seems  to  have  effected  any- 
thing, and  Wagner  then  applied  to  Meyerbeer,  who 
on  returning  to  Paris  in  the  summer  of  1840  had  found 
his  young  friend  in  dire  distress.  Meyerbeer  wrote  to 
the  intendant.  Von  Luttichau.  "  Herr  Richard  Wagner 
of  Leipsic,"  he  said,  "  is  a  young  composer  who  has 
not  only  a  thorough   musical  education,    but   who 


"The  End  of  a  Musician  in  Paris"     45 

possesses  much  imagination,  as  well  as  general  literary 
culture,  and  whose  predicament  certainly  merits  in 
every  way  sympathy  in  his  native  land."  Three 
months  after  the  writing  of  this  letter  Wagner 
received  word  that  his  opera  had  been  accepted  at 
Dresden,  but  it  was  sixteen  months  later  when  it  was 
produced.  Although  he  knew  that  in  Fischer,  the 
chorusmaster,  Reissiger,  the  conductor,  and  Tichat- 
schek,  the  tenor,  who  saw  golden  opportunities  in  the 
title  role,  he  had  friends  at  court,  yet  he  suffered 
intense  anxiety  during  the  period  between  the 
acceptance  and  the  production  of  the  work.  The 
correspondence  with  Fischer  and  Heine  well  shows 
the  extent  of  this.* 

Meanwhile  Meyerbeer,  wishing  to  do  something  to 
give  immediate  help  to  the  unfortunate  young  man, 
placed  him  in  communication  with  Leon  Fillet,  the 
director  of  the  Grand  Opera.  "I  had  already,  "  says 
Wagner  in  the  autobiography,  "provided  myself  for 
this  emergency  with  an  outline  plot.  The  '  Flying 
Dutchman,  '  whose  acquaintance  1  had  made  upon  the 
ocean,  had  never  ceased  to  fascinate  my  phantasy  ;  I 
had  also  made  the  acquaintance  of  H.  Heine's  remark- 
able version  of  this  legend  in  a  number  of  his  '  Salon  ' ; 
and  it  was  especially  his  treatment  of  the  redemption 
of  this  Ahasuerus  of  the  seas — borrowed  from  a  Dutch 
play  under  the  same  title — that  placed  within  my 
hands  all  the  material  for  turning  the  legend  into  an 
opera  subject.  "  Wagner  rushed  to  Fillet  with  this 
sketch  for  the  book  of  the  "Flying  Dutchman,"  and 
the  suggestion  that  a  French  text-book  be  prepared 
for  him  to  set  to  music. 

*  R.Wagner :  Letters  to  Uhlig,  Fischer,  and  Heine.    London,  1890. 


46  Richard  Wagner 

Pillet  accepted  the  sketch  and  there  was  much  talk 
about  the  choice  of  a  person  to  make  a  suitable  French 
arrangement.  Suddenly  Meyerbeer  left  Paris  again, 
and  no  sooner  was  his  back  turned  than  Pillet  told  the 
young  German  that  he  liked  "  Le  Vaisseau-Fantome  " 
so  well  that  he  would  be  glad  to  sell  it  to  a  composer 
to  whom  he  had  long  ago  promised  a  libretto.  Wag- 
ner naturally  declined  to  accede  to  such  a  proposition 
and  asked  for  the  return  of  his  manuscript.  But  Pillet 
was  unwilling  to  part  with  it.  Wagner  left  the  manu- 
script in  his  hands,  hoping  that  Meyerbeer  would 
return  and  straighten  out  the  affair.  Pursued  by 
creditors  and  harassed  by  want,  he  now  left  Paris  and 
went  to  reside  in  the  suburb  of  Meudon.  Here  he 
heard  by  chance  that  his  sketches  for  "  Der  Fliegende 
Hollander "  had  been  placed  in  the  hands  of  M. 
Paul  Foucher  for  arrangement,  and  that  he  was  in 
a  fair  way  to  be  cheated  out  of  his  book.  So  in  the 
end  he  accepted  $ioo  for  it,  and  was  thankful  to  get 
that. 

"  Le  Vaisseau-Fantome,"  libretto  by  Foucher  and 
Revoil,  music  by  Pierre  Louis  Phillipe  Dietsch,  chorus- 
master  and  afterward  conductor  at  the  opera,  was  pro- 
duced Nov.  9,  1842.  It  was  a  distinguished  failure  and 
was  speedily  consigned  to  oblivion.  Meanwhile  Wag- 
ner, who  was  not  forbidden  by  the  terms  of  his  agree- 
ment with  Pillet  to  write  a  German  book  of  his  own 
after  his  sketches,  sat  down  to  pen  the  text  of ' '  Der  Flie- 
gende Hollander,"  which  still  lives.  In  seven  weeks 
he  had  written  the  whole  work  except  the  overture, 
and  then  his  $100  were  gone,  and  he  had  to  revert  to 
hack  work  to  earn  bread.  He  returned  to  Paris  and 
lived  most  humbly  at  No.   10  Rue  Jacob,  where  he 


"The  End  of  a  Musician  in  Paris"    47 

made  piano  scores  of  Halevy's  " Guitarrero  "  and  "La 
Reine  de  Chypre." 

It  was  at  this  time,  too,  in  the  beginning  of  the 
year  1841,  that  he  wrote  his  pathetic  slcetch,  "The 
End  of  a  Musician  in  Paris,"  in  which  he  delineated 
his  own  hopes  and  disappointments,  and  made  the 
poor  man  die  with  the  words,  "I  believe  in  God, 
Mozart,  and  Beethoven."  When  the  score  of  the 
"Dutchman"  was  completed,  he  hastened  to  send  it 
to  his  fatherland,  but  from  Munich  and  Leipsic  came 
the  answer  that  it  was  not  suitable  to  Germany. 
"Fool  that  I  was!"  he  says;  "1  had  fancied  it 
was  fitted  for  Germany  alone,  since  it  is  struck  on 
chords  that  can  only  vibrate  in  the  German  breast." 
Once  more  he  turned  for  help  to  the  musical  dictator, 
Meyerbeer,  who  was  in  Berlin.  He  sent  the  new 
work  to  him  with  a  request  that  he  get  it  taken  up  by 
the  opera  in  that  city.  The  opera  was  accepted 
speedily,  but  there  was  no  prospect  of  immediate  pro- 
duction. Nor  did  Wagner  see  any  prospects  of  any 
kind,  except  starvation,  in  Paris. 

All  through  the  winter  of  1841-42  he  hoarded  his 
money  in  the  hope  of  going  to  Germany  for  the  pro- 
duction of  his  "Rienzi."  In  the  same  winter  began 
the  voluminous  correspondence  with  his  Dresden 
friends,  Wilhelm  Fischer  and  Ferdinand  Heine.  The 
former  was  addressed  ceremoniously  in  the  first  let- 
ters as  a  new  acquaintance.  The  latter  was  an  old 
friend  of  the  Wagner  family.  In  his  letters  to  these 
two  men  the  poet-composer  poured  out  the  tortured 
anxiety  of  his  soul  over  the  promised  production  of 
"Rienzi."  He  gave  invaluable  suggestions  as  to  the 
cast  and  the  performance.     He  besought  first  one  and 


48  Richard  Wagner 

then  the  other  of  the  friends  to  let  him  know  how  and 
when  the  work  would  at  length  be  given.  He  wrote 
to  the  artists,  Tichatschek  and  Schroeder-Devrient. 
They  paid  no  attention  to  him.  Who  was  he,  this 
unknown  young  composer,  to  trouble  the  darlings  of 
the  public  ?  He  grovelled  before  them  and  they 
spurned  him.  Reissiger's  "  Adele  de  Foix"  must  be 
given  before  "Rienzi,"  for  Reissiger  was  the  conduc- 
tor at  Dresden.  Then  came  Halevy's  "Guitarrero," 
which  Wagner  knew  well  indeed.  And  finally  when 
"Rienzi"  seemed  likely  to  get  a  hearing,  Mme. 
Schroeder-Devrient  decided  that  she  needed  a  revival 
of  Gluck's  "Armida."  Poor  Wagner !  He  wrote  of 
Schroeder-Devrient  to  Heine: 

"  I  believe  1  have  already  written  her  a  dozen  letters  :  that  she  has 
not  sent  me  a  single  word  in  reply  does  not  surprise  me  very  much, 
because  I  know  how  some  people  detest  letter-writing  ;  but  that  she 
has  never  sent  me  indirectly  a  word  or  a  hint  disquiets  me  greatly. 
Great  Heavens  !  so  very  much  depends  upon  her ;  it  would  be  truly 
humane  on  her  part  if  she  would  only  send  me  this  message — perhaps 
by  her  chambermaid — '  Calm  yourself !  I  am  interested  in  your 
cause  ! ' " 

At  length  patience  became  impossible.  He  was 
eager  to  be  on  the  spot  and  to  exert  his  personal  in- 
fluence. Furthermore  he  wished  his  wife  to  take  the 
baths  at  Teplitz.  So  on  April  7,  1842,  he  was  able  to 
turn  his  face  from  Paris,  the  scene  of  so  much  achieve- 
ment, so  much  disappointment,  and  move  toward  his 
native  land.  "  For  the  first  time,"  he  says  at  the  end 
of  the  autobiographic  sketch,  "1  saw  the  Rhine. 
With  hot  tears  in  my  eyes,  1,  poor  artist,  swore 
eternal  fidelity  to  my  German  fatherland."     But  a  little 


"  The  End  of  a  Musician  in  Paris  "    49 

later  the  poor  artist's  name  was  on  every  tongue,  in 
every  print  ;  and  the  great  Wagner  war  broke  over 
Germany.  For  genius  always  arouses  opposition,  and 
there  are  few  who  can  follow  the  seven  league  strides 
of  a  creative  mind. 


CHAPTER  V 

BEGINNING   OF   FAME    AND    HOSTILITY 

"  Before  the  world  of  modern  art  I  now  could  hope  no  more  for  life." 

Wagner 

The  excursion  to  Teplitz  in  the  early  summer  of 
1842  for  his  wife's  health  was  of  great  importance  in 
the  development  of  Richard  Wagner,  for  it  was  there 
and  then  that  he  completed  the  outline  of  the  book  of 
"  Tannhauser."  When  he  had  finished  "  Der  Flie- 
gende  Hollander,"  he  searched  for  a  new  subject. 
That  he  had  not  yet  discovered  in  what  direction  his 
genius  called  him  is  demonstrated  by  the  fact  that  he 
was  attracted  by  the  story  of  the  conquest  of  Apulia 
and  Sicily  by  Manfred,  the  son  of  the  Emperor  Fried- 
rich  II.  He  made  a  plan  for  a  book  to  be  called  "  Die 
Sarazener."  In  this  Mme.  Schroeder-Devrient  was  to 
have  the  role  of  a  half-sister  of  Manfred,  a  prophetess, 
who  led  the  Saracens  to  victory  and  secured  Manfred's 
coronation.  The  plot  was  shown  to  Mme.  Schroeder- 
Devrient  some  years  later,  but  it  did  not  please  her, 
and  the  work  was  dropped.  And  now  there  fell  into 
Wagner's  hands  a  version  of  the  "Tannhauser" 
legend,  and  his  mind  went  flying  back  to  Hoffmann's 
"Sangerkrieg,"  which  he  had  read  in  his  youth.  He 
started  to  run  down  the  different  versions  of  the  story, 

50 


Beginning  of  Fame  and  Hostility    51 

and  in  so  doing  came  upon  the  legends  of  "  Parzival  " 
and  "Lohengrin."  But  it  was  the  "Tannhauser" 
legend  which  first  absorbed  him,  and  at  once  he  began 
the  plan  which  he  completed  at  Teplitz. 

The  general  rehearsals  for  "  Rienzi  "  began  in  Dres- 
den in  July,  for  in  spite  of  the  anxiety  of  Wagner  and 
his  lack  of  information,  the  preparations  for  the  pro- 
duction of  his  work  had  been  going  on  very  well.  The 
summer  past,  the  rehearsals  were  again  pushed  for- 
ward, and  the  composer  found  valuable  allies  in 
Tichatschek,  who  was  enamoured  of  the  title  role,  and 
Fischer,  who  saw  the  power  and  splendour  of  the  glow- 
ing score.  For  though  "Rienzi"  is  a  work  entirely 
opposed  to  the  true  Wagnerian  methods  and  style,  it 
is  one  of  the  greatest  creations  of  the  real  French 
school,  to  which  it  strictly  belongs.  So  on  Oct.  20, 
1842,  the  first  of  the  Wagnerian  works  which  still  hold 
the  stage,  was  produced  at  the  Dresden  opera  and 
Wagner  awoke  the  next  morning  to  find  himself 
famous.  The  performance  was  an  almost  startling 
success.  Singers,  orchestra,  public,  and  critics  were 
alike  amazed  and  overwhelmed  by  the  enormous 
breadth  of  style,  mastery  of  technic,  and  maturity  of 
methods  shown  in  the  work.  Although  the  perform- 
ance occupied  six  hours,  the  enthusiasm  of  the  audience 
was  not  abated.  The  next  morning  Wagner  went 
to  the  theatre  to  indicate  the  cuts  which  should  be 
made  in  the  over-long  work,  and  was  met  with  a 
storm  of  protests  by  the  singers.  Tichatschek  de- 
clared that  he  would  not  spare  a  measure.  "It  is 
heavenly  !  "  he  exclaimed.  A  second  and  a  third  per- 
formance were  given  with  growing  receipts.  At  the 
third  Reissiger  resigned  the  conductor's  baton  to  the 


52  Richard  Wagner 

young  composer,  and  the  public  went  wild  with  ap- 
proval. All  the  wretchedness  of  Paris  was  gone  and 
forgotten.  The  star  of  genius  was  in  the  ascendant  ; 
the  Rhine  had  been  Wagner's  Rubicon. 

In  subsequent  performances  the  work  was  divided 
into  two  parts,  the  first  and  second  acts  being  given  on 
one  evening,  and  the  other  three  on  another.  It  was 
five  years,  however,  before  the  opera  travelled  as  far 
as  the  stage  of  the  opera  at  Berlin.  Thence  it  went 
out  into  all  the  world.  But  it  was  the  end  of  what 
may  be  called  Wagner's  first  artistic  period.  The  work 
was  planned  and  executed  on  the  conventional  lines  of 
the  Meyerbeerian  grand  opera,  and  the  music  was  a 
compound  of  French  and  Italian  styles,  with  here  and 
there  a  burst  of  the  real  Wagner  of  the  future.  The 
artistic  convictions  which  were  to  develop  into  a 
complete  theory  of  the  music  drama  in  the  mind  of 
Wagner  had  come  to  him  in  the  composition  of  the 
"  Flying  Dutchman,"  and  this  work  became  the  start- 
ing point  of  what  is  commonly  called  his  second  period, 
in  which  he  produced  it,  together  with  "  Tannhauser  " 
and  "  Lohengrin." 

The  winter  at  Dresden  passed  happily,  for  the  young 
composer  was  enjoying  the  first  fruits  of  success. 
Heinrich  Laube,  the  old  friend  of  Wagner  and  editor 
of  the  Journal  for  the  Polite  World,  asked  the  com- 
poser to  furnish  material  for  an  autobiographic  sketch, 
and  this  Wagner  wrote.  This  sketch  will  be  found  in 
the  first  volume  of  the  collected  prose  writings  of  the 
master.  It  ends  with  the  start  from  Paris  for  Dresden. 
The  music  of  "  Rienzi "  began  to  be  heard  on  the  con- 
cert stage,  and  the  name  of  Wagner,  to  be  noised 
about  as  that  of  a  man  of  high   promise.     It  would 


Beginning  of  Fame  and  Hostility     53 

have  been  extremely  easy  for  him  to  achieve  pecuniary 
success  by  writing  more  works  on  the  popular  lines       •, 
of  "  Rienzi,"  but  it  was  not  in  the  man  to  sacrifice  his       1, 
artistic  conscience  to  public  favour.     Already  the  ideas        ' 
which  were  to  make  him  famous  in  time,  but  which^ 
were  first  to  throw  musical  Europe  into  a  ferment  of 
dispute,  had  taken  firm  possession  of  his  mind.     In 
March,  1843,  August  Roeckel,  second  music  director   , 
at  Dresden,  and  a  life-long  friend  of  Wagner,  wrote 
to  Ferdinand  Praeger  in  London  : 

"  Henceforth  1  drop  myself  into  a  well,  because  I  am  going  to  speak 
of  the  man  whose  greatness  overshadows  that  of  all  other  men  I  have 
ever  met,  either  in  France  or  England — our  friend  Richard  Wagner.  1 
say  advisedly,  our  friend,  for  he  knows  you  from  my  description  as  well 
as  1  do.  You  cannot  imagine  how  the  daily  intercourse  with  him  de- 
velops my  admiration  for  his  genius.  His  earnestness  in  art  is  relig- 
ious ;  he  looks  upon  the  drama  as  a  pulpit  from  which  the  people 
should  be  taught,  and  his  views  on  a  combination  of  the  different  arts 
for  that  purpose  open  up  an  exciting  theory,  as  new  as  it  is  ideal." 

This  theory  of  a  combination  in  one  organic  whole, 
of  all  the  arts  tributary  to  the  drama,  each  part  to  be 
as  important,  as  essential  as  the  other,  was  the  theory 
which  Wagner  now  began  to  practice,  which  he  first 
attempted  to  illustrate  in  his  "  Flying  Dutchman,"  and 
which  he  subsequently  preached  in  his  principal  prose 
writings.  It  was  the  theory  which  met  with  active 
and  obstinate  opposition  from  those  who  either  would 
not  or  could  not  climb  to  Wagner's  artistic  altitude, 
and  who  preferred  to  see  in  the  opera  nothing  but  a 
field  for  the  display  of  pretty  vocal  pieces  and  voices 
trained  to  sing  them.  Wagner's  theory  made  the 
music  and  the  singing  subordinate  to  the  dramatic 
design,  transformed  them  from  ultimate  objects  into 


54  Richard  Wagner 

means  of  expression  ;  and  this  was  to  his  contempor- 
aries a  revolutionary  idea  for  which  they  were  not 
prepared. 

" Der  Fliegende  Hollander"  was  produced  at  the 
Dresden  opera  on  January  2,  1843,  with  Mme.  Schroe- 
der-Devrient  as  Senta,  and  Wagner  in  the  conductor's 
chair.  The  work  proved  to  be  a  disappointment  to  the 
public,  which  had  looked  for  another  "Rienzi"  with 
glittering  processions,  splendid  scenery,  and  groupings, 
and  imposing  action  coupled  with  brilliant  music. 
The  simple  story  and  action  of  the  "Dutchman,"  in- 
terpreted largely  by  music  of  a  purely  emotional  charac- 
ter, was  too  serious  for  the  Dresden  audience,  and  at 
that  period  for  audienceselsewhere.  To  usof  thepresent 
day  this  work  is  the  essence  of  simplicity,  and  much 
of  its  music  seems  trivially  light.  But  to  the  Germans 
of  1843  it  was  a  most  sombre  tragedy. 

"  My  friends,"  Wagner  says, "  were  dismayed  at  the 
result  ;  they  seemed  anxious  to  obliterate  this  impres- 
sion on  them  and  the  public  by  an  enthusiastic  resump- 
tion of  '  Rienzi. '  1  was  myself  in  sufficiently  ill  humour 
to  remain  silent  and  leave  the  '  Flying  Dutchman  '  un- 
defended." The  critics  of  the  day  were  nonplussed 
by  the  total  departure  from  the  recognised  conventions 
of  the  contemporaneous  stage,  and  they  talked  a  deal 
of  nonsense  about  the  lack  of  melody  in  the  work,  a 
sort  of  nonsense  which  some  old-fashioned  persons 
have  not  done  talking  even  yet.  But  we  must  remem- 
ber that  this  new  work  was  an  artistic  revelation  ;  and 
the  general  public  never  likes  these.  It  desires  only 
to  be  amused  in  the  theatre,  and  only  after  much 
struggling  yields  to  the  power  of  genius,  and  renders 
homage  to  true  works  of  art.    Wagner  himself  realised 


Beginning  of  Fame  and  Hostility    55 

that  the  general  public  could  not  be  looked  to  for  sup- 
port in  his  radical  departure  from  the  easy  path  of  tune- 
ful dalliance,  in  which  it  was  accustomed  to  travel.  In 
his  "Communication  to  My  Friends  "  he  says  : 

"  From  Berlin,  where  I  was  entirely  unknown,  I  received  from  two 
utter  strangers,  who  had  been  attracted  towards  me  by  the  impression 
which  '  The  Flying  Dutchman  '  had  produced  upon  them,  the  first 
complete  satisfaction  which  1  had  been  permitted  to  enjoy,  with  the 
invitation  to  continue  in  the  particular  direction  I  had  marked  out. 
From  this  moment  1  lost  more  and  more  from  sight  the  veritable  pub- 
lic. The  opinion  of  a  few  intelligent  men  took  the  place  in  my  mind 
of  the  opinion  of  the  masses,  which  can  never  be  wholly  apprehended, 
although  it  had  been  the  object  of  my  labour  in  my  first  attempts, 
when  my  eyes  were  not  yet  open  to  the  light." 

On  May  22  the  opera  was  given  at  Riga,  and  on 
June  5  at  Cassel  under  direction  of  the  famous  com- 
poser, violinist,  and  conductor,  Ludwig  Spohr.  The 
poem  had  been  submitted  to  him  and  he  had  spoken 
of  it  as  a  little  masterpiece.  He  had  sent  for  the 
music,  and  at  once  decided  to  produce  the  work.  It 
seems  strange  that  Spohr,  a  composer  of  tendencies  so 
different  from  Wagner's  and  so  old  a  man  (he  was 
sixty-nine),  should  have  been  one  of  the  first  to  per- 
ceive the  power  of  the  new  genius.  But  in  a  letter  to 
his  friend  Liiders  he  wrote  : 

"  This  work,  though  it  comes  near  the  boundary  of  the  new  roman- 
tic school  a  la  Berlioz,  and  is  giving  me  unheard-of  trouble  with  its 
immense  difficulties,  yet  interests  me  in  the  highest  degree  since  it  is 
obviously  the  product  of  pure  inspiration,  and  does  not,  like  so  much 
of  our  modern  operatic  music,  betray  in  every  bar  the  striving  to  make 
a  sensation  or  to  please.  There  is  much  creative  imagination  in  it,  its 
invention  is  thoroughly  noble,  and  it  is  well  written  for  the  voices, 
while  the  orchestral  part,  though  enormously  difficult,  and  somewhat 
overladen,  is  rich  in  new  effects  and  will  certainly,  in  our  large  theatre, 
be  perfectly  clear  and  intelligible."  * 

*  Spohr  quotes  this  letter  in  his  "  Autobiography." 


56  Richard  Wagner 

The  completeness  of  the  popular  failure  of  the 
"Flying  Dutchman"  may  be  estimated  from  the  fact 
that  after  the  first  performances  in  Dresden  it  disap- 
peared from  the  repertoire  of  that  opera  for  twenty 
years.  It  was  produced  in  Berlin  in  1844,  and  it  was 
ten  years  after  that  when  it  was  heard  again  anywhere. 
Wagner  himself  did  not  realise  either  the  fulness  or  the 
significance  of  the  failure  of  this  work.  He  had  only  be- 
gun to  experiment  with  his  reformatory  ideas,  and  that 
the  public  was  not  ready  to  accept  them  with  acclaim 
could  not  have  amazed  him,  though  it  doubtless  brought 
him  from  the  rosy  heights  of  sanguinity  down  to  the 
shadier  levels  of  dull  fact.  To  awaken  from  a  hopeful 
dream,  however  illusive,  is  painful  ;  and  Wagner  was 
momentarily  shocked  and  hurt.  But  as  he  had  not 
yet  grasped  all  the  details  of  his  own  theories,  so  he 
failed  to  perceive  the  utterness  of  the  public  inability 
to  comprehend  his  dawning  purposes.  It  was  not  till 
after  the  production  of  his  "  Tannhauser,"  which  some 
of  his  most  ardent  admirers  still  regard  as  poet- 
ically his  noblest  tragedy,  that  he  realised  the  soli- 
tariness of  his  genius,  the  shallowness  of  a  public 
trained  up  to  be  lightly  pleased. 

Meanwhile  he  was  appointed  to  a  very  important 
professional  post.  The  deaths  of  Kapellmeister  Mor- 
lacchiin  1841  and  "  Musik-director  "  Rastrelli  in  1842 
had  made  two  vacancies  in  the  Dresden  Theatre. 
Wagner  was  one  of  those  who  applied  for  the  secon- 
dary position  at  a  salary  of  1200  thalers  (about  $900) 
a  year.  Von  Luttichau,  the  Intendant  (manager) 
excited  by  the  success  of  "  Rienzi,"  thought  he  had 
found  a  rare  jewel,  and  supported  Wagner,  with  the 
result  that  the  composer  was  appointed  Hofkapell- 


Beginning  of  Fame  and  Hostility    57 

meister  at  i^oothalers  (about  $1125).  The  position 
of  Hofkapellmeister  also  carried  with  it  life  incumb- 
ency, and  a  pension  on  retirement.  On  January  10, 
1843,  he  conducted  Weber's  "  Euryanthe,"  this  being 
the  customary  public  "trial  "  representation.  He  then 
made  an  unsuccessful  trip  to  Berlin  to  try  to  push  his 
"  Rienzi."  Before  the  close  of  the  month  his  appoint- 
ment was  formally  made,  and  his  first  duty  was  to 
assist  Hector  Berlioz,  who  arrived  in  Dresden  on  Feb- 
ruary I,  in  the  rehearsals  for  his  concerts.* 

He  served  seven  years  as  conductor  at  Dresden  and 

*  In  his  letters  from  Germany  Berlioz  wrote  of  Wagner  thus  :  "As 
for  the  young  Kapellmeister,  Richard  Wagner,  who  lived  for  a  long 
while  in  Paris  without  succeeding  in  making  himself  known  otherwise 
than  as  the  author  of  some  articles  published  in  the  Gazette  Musicale, 
he  exercised  his  authority  for  the  first  time  in  helping  me  in  my  rehear- 
sals, which  he  did  with  zeal  and  a  very  good  will.  The  ceremony  of 
his  presentation  to  the  orchestra  and  taking  the  oath  took  place  the 
day  after  my  arrival,  and  I  found  him  in  all  the  intoxication  of  a  very 
natural  joy.  After  having  undergone  in  France  a  thousand  privations 
and  all  the  trials  to  which  obscurity  is  exposed,  Richard  Wagner,  on 
coming  back  to  Saxony,  his  native  country,  had  the  daring  to  under- 
take and  the  happiness  to  achieve  the  composition  of  the  text  and 
music  of  an  opera  in  five  acts  ('  Rienzi  ').  This  work  had  a  brilliant 
success  in  Dresden.  It  was  soon  followed  by  '  The  Flying  Dutchman,' 
an  opera  in  three  acts,  of  which  also  he  wrote  both  text  and  music. 
Whatever  opinion  one  may  hold  of  these  works,  it  must  be  acknow- 
ledged that  men  capable  of  accomplishing  this  double  literary  and 
musical  task  twice  with  success  are  not  common,  and  that  M.  Wagner 
has  given  enough  proof  of  his  capacity  to  excite  interest  and  to  rivet 
the  attention  of  the  world  upon  himself.  This  was  very  well  under- 
stood by  the  King  of  Saxony  ;  and  the  day  that  he  gave  his  first  kap- 
ellmeister Richard  Wagner  for  a  colleague,  thus  assuring  the  latter's 
subsistence,  all  friends  of  art  must  have  said  to  His  Majesty  what  Jean 
Bart  answered  Louis  XIV.  when  he  made  him  a  commander  of  a  squad- 
ron :     '  Sire,  you  have  done  well.'  " 


58  Richard  Wagner 

in  that  time  reliearsed  and  conducted  works  by  Weber, 
Spohr,  Spontini,  Mendelssohn,  Mozart,  Beethoven, 
Marschner,  Gluck,  and  others,  gaining  an  immense 
amount  of  valuable  experience.  The  arrangement  of 
Gluck's  "  Iphigenie  in  Aulis,"  which  he  made  for  the 
performance  of  February  22,  1847,  is  published  and 
approved  by  critical  authorities. 

Concerts  were  given  by  the  court  orchestra,  and  in 
these  he  conducted  the  leading  orchestral  works,  mak- 
ing a  special  study  of  the  Beethoven  symphonies.  To 
this  labour  he  applied  all  the  results  of  his  early 
studies  of  Beethoven,  and  his  own  ideas  about  con- 
ducting, together  with  some  thoughts  formed  in  lis- 
tening to  the  Conservatoire  concerts  in  Paris.  The 
results  of  these  studies  and  experiences  he  subse- 
quently embodied  in  a  book  called ' '  Ueber  das  Dirigen. " 
(On  Conducting).  Among  his  other  duties  a  certain 
amount  of  attention  had  to  be  given  to  the  music  of 
the  Hofkirche.  The  choir  consisted  of  fourteen  men 
and  twelve  boys,  and  there  was  a  full  orchestra  of 
fifty,  including  trumpets  and  trombones.  Wagner 
said  to  Mr.  Edward  Dannreuther,  "The  echoes  and 
reverberations  in  the  building  were  deafening.  I 
wanted  to  relieve  the  hard-working  members  of  the 
orchestra  and  female  voices,  and  introduce  true  Catho- 
lic church  music  a  cappella.  As  a  specimen  I  pre- 
pared Palestrina's  '  Stabat  Mater,'  and  suggested  other 
pieces,  but  my  efforts  failed."  Wagner  was  as  true  an 
artist  in  the  matter  of  church  music  as  he  was  in  that 
of  the  stage,  and  he  returned  with  joy  to  the  glorious 
treasure-house  of  Roman  art  ;  but  he  found  his  public 
just  as  unfit  for  that  as  for  his  new  dispensations  in  the 
drama. 


Beginning  of  Fame  and  Hostility    59 

Wagner  was  made  conductor  of  the  Liedertafel,  a 
chorus  of  men  organised  in  1839,  and  also  oftheSaen- 
gerfest  of  1843.  It  took  place  in  July  of  that  year  and 
the  composer  wrote  for  it  "  Das  Liebesmahl  der  Apos- 
tel,"  a  biblical  scene.  The  story  of  this  celebration  of 
the  Lord's  Supper  by  the  Apostles  was  this  :  The  dis- 
ciples being  assembled  for  the  feast,  the  Apostles  ar- 
rive with  the  information  that  the  penalty  of  death  has 
been  prescribed  for  teaching  the  Christian  faith.  Alarm 
fills  every  breast  and  the  assembly  prays  to  the  Father 
to  send  them  the  Holy  Spirit.  Heavenly  voices  sound 
from  above,  telling  the  supplicants  that  their  prayer 
has  been  granted.  Then  follows  a  convulsion  of  nat- 
ure, caused  by  the  descent  of  the  Spirit,  and  the  Apos- 
tles and  Disciples  go  forth  to  preach  the  Gospel.  A 
chorus  of  forty  men  represented  the  Disciples,  and  the 
heavenly  voices  were  consigned  to  an  invisible  choir 
singing  in  the  dome  of  the  building.  This  bit  of  stage 
management,  repeated  in  "Parsifal,"  was  the  only 
feature  of  the  work  that  attracted  special  attention.* 
The  correspondent  of  the  Paris  Gaieife  Musicale, 
Schlesinger's  paper,  wrote,  "This  last  work,  the  con- 
ception of  which  is  most  daring,  has  produced  an 
extraordinary  effect,  and  one  which  it  is  impossible  to 
describe.  The  King  after  the  concert  was  over  sum- 
moned the  young  author  to  him,  and  testified  his 
satisfaction  in  the  most  affectionate  terms."  But  the 
Gaiette  Musicale's  Dresden  correspondent  trusted 
much  to  the  effect  of  distance  in  magnifying  the  size  of 
a  popular  demonstration.  Wagner  himself  thought  well 

*  In  reality  the  most  striking  feature  of  this  work  is  the  complete 
silence  of  the  orchestra  till  the  descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  The  com- 
position, however,  is  weak. 


6o  Richard  Wagner 

of  this  work,  and  lamented  in  a  letter  to  Liszt  in  1852 
that  choral  societies  did  not  perform  it.  But  the  truth 
is  that  the  most  noticeable  qualities  of  the  composition 
are  purely  theatrical,  showing  that  Wagner's  genius 
was  entirely  for  the  stage  and  not  for  the  concert 
platform. 

Spontini,  the  aged  composer  of  "La  Vestale," 
visited  Dresden  when  his  work  was  produced  under 
Wagner's  direction,  and  was  treated  by  the  young  con- 
ductor with  great  veneration  in  spite  of  his  trouble- 
some demands  for  adherence  to  his  old  manner  of 
performing  the  work.  Wagner  also  entered  heart  and 
soul  into  a  project  which  the  Liedertafel  had  long  cher- 
ished, namely,  to  carry  the  remains  of  Weber  from 
London  to  Germany  and  inter  them  in  the  family  vault 
at  Dresden.  The  Liedertafel  had  raised  some  money 
by  concerts,  and  now  after  Wagner  had  overcome  the 
opposition  of  both  the  King  and  the  Intendant,  an  op- 
eratic performance  was  given  for  the  aid  of  the  plan. 
The  receipts,  added  to  the  funds  already  secured  and 
augmented  by  the  proceeds  of  a  benefit  given  in  Ber- 
lin by  Meyerbeer,  enabled  the  Liedertafel  to  send 
Weber's  oldest  son  to  London  for  the  remains.  He 
returned  in  December,  and  on  the  fourteenth  of  that 
month  the  ceremony  of  reinterment  took  place.  The 
funeral  music  was  arranged  by  Wagner  from  two  pas- 
sages in  "  Euryanthe,"  and  he  delivered  the  funeral  or- 
ation, which  was  pronounced  a  masterly  effort.  It 
may  be  read  in  his  collected  prose  writings.  Taken  all 
in  all,  the  work  of  Wagner  outside  of  the  field  of  opera- 
tic composition  was  important  while  he  was  in  Dres- 
den. He  certainly  amazed  the  Germans  themselves  by 
his  puissant    revelations   of  the   possibilities   of  the 


Beginning  of  Fame  and  Hostility    6i 

Beethoven  symphonies,  and  his  interpretations  of  the 
worlds  of  other  composers  were  so  striking  and  so  far 
out  of  the  conventional  ruts  into  which  the  easy-going 
kapellmeisters  of  the  country  had  fallen  that  a  coterie 
of  bitter  opponents  to  him  arose.  Among  them  he 
was  known  as  Wagner,  the  iconoclast,  and  this  decep- 
tive appellation,  applied  to  him  because  he  was  not 
satisfied  with  indolent  mediocrity  and  slothful  error, 
clung  to  him  for  many  years,  an  empty  formula  which 
its  users  could  not  justify. 

It  was  at  this  time  that,  smarting  under  the  failure  of 
his  public  to  understand  him,  and  half  inclined  to  re- 
turn to  the  easy  path  of  popular  success  indicated  by 
the  triumph  of  "Rienzi,"  he  showed  toMme.  Schroe- 
der-Devrient  the  sketch  of  "Manfred."  She,  however, 
was  not  pleased  with  the  story  and  dissuaded  him 
from  attempting  to  develop  it.  That  his  own  artistic 
conscience  was  at  work,  too,  is  shown  by  the  words 
written  by  him  in  the  "Communication  to  My 
Friends." 

"  Through  the  happy  change  in  the  aspect  of  my  outward  lot ; 
through  the  hopes  I  cherished  of  its  even  still  more  favourable  develop- 
ment in  the  future  ;  and  finally  through  my  personal,  and  in  a  sense, 
intoxicating  contact  with  a  new  and  well-inclined  surrounding,  a 
passion  for  enjoyment  had  sprung  up  within  me,  that  led  my  inner 
nature,  formed  among  the  struggles  and  impressions  of  a  painful  past, 
astray  from  its  own  peculiar  path.  A  general  instinct  that  urges  every 
man  to  take  life  as  he  finds  it  now  pointed  me,  in  my  particular  rela- 
tions as  artist,  to  a  path  which,  on  the  other  hand,  must  soon  and  bit- 
terly disgust  me.  This  instinct  could  only  have  been  appeased  in  life 
on  condition  of  my  seeking  as  artist  to  wrest  myself  renown  and  plea- 
sure by  a  complete  subordination  of  my  true  nature  to  the  demands  of 
the  public  taste  in  art.  I  should  have  had  to  submit  myself  to  the 
mode,  and  to  speculation  on  its  weaknesses  ;  and  here,  on  this  point 
at  least,  my  feeling  showed  me  clearly  that,  with  an   actual  entry  on 


62  Richard  Wagner 

that  path,  I  must  inevitably  be  engulfed  in  my  own  loathing  Thus 
the  pleasures  of  life  presented  themselves  to  my  feeling  in  the  shape 
alone  of  what  our  modern  world  can  offer  to  the  senses  ;  and  this 
again  appeared  attainable  by  me  as  artist  solely  along  the  direction 
which  I  had  already  learnt  to  recognise  as  the  exploitation  of  our  pub- 
lic art-morass.  In  actual  life  1  was  at  like  time  confronted  —  in  the 
person  of  a  woman  for  whom  I  had  a  sincere  admiration  —  with  the 
phenomenon  that  a  longing  akin  to  my  own  could  only  imagine  itself 
contented  with  the  paltriest  return  of  trivial  love  ;  a  delusion  so  com- 
pletely threadbare  that  it  could  never  really  mask  its  nature  from  the 
inner  need. 

"  If  at  last  1  turned  impatiently  away  and  owed  the  strength  of  my 
repugnance  to  the  independence  already  developed  in  my  nature  both 
as  artist  and  as  man,  so  did  that  double  revolt  of  man  and  artist  inev- 
itably take  on  the  form  of  a  yearning  for  appeasement  in  a  higher, 
nobler  element;  an  element  which,  in  its  contrast  to  the  only  pleasures 
that  the  material  present  reads  in  modern  life  and  modern  art,  could  but 
appear  to  me  in  the  guise  of  a  pure,  chaste,  virginal,  unseizable  and  un- 
approachable ideal  of  love.  What  in  fine  could  this  love-yearning,  the 
noblest  thing  my  heart  could  feel,  what  other  could  it  be  than  a  long- 
ing for  release  from  the  present,  for  absorption  into  an  element  of 
endless  love,  a  love  denied  to  earth,  and  reachable  through  the  gates 
of  death  alone?  And  what  again  at  bottom  could  such  a  longing  be 
but  the  yearning  of  love  ;  aye,  of  a  real  love,  seeded  in  the  soil  of  ful- 
lest sentience — yet  a  love  that  could  never  come  to  fruitage  on  the 
loathsome  soil  of  modern  sentience  ?  The  above  is  an  exact  account 
of  the  mood  in  which  I  was  when  the  unlaid  ghost  of  '  Tannhauser ' 
returned  again  and  urged  me  to  complete  his  poem." 

In  these  sentences  one  can  easily  find  the  mind  of 
the  Wagner  who  wrote  "Tristan  und  Isolde,"  and 
this  statement  of  the  mood  of  the  time  explains  why 
"  Tannhauser"  stands  more  closely  related  to  "Tris- 
tan "  than  any  other  of  the  master's  works.  Urged 
now  by  his  artistic  soul  and  dissuaded  by  the  intuition 
of  Mme.  Schroeder-Devrient  from  yielding  to  a  dan- 
gerous impulse,  he  turned  once  more  to  ' '  Tannhauser  " 
and  completed  the  work  in  April,  1844.     "  With  this 


Beginning  of  Fame  and  Hostility    63 

work  I  penned  my  death  warrant,"  he  says  ;  "before 
the  world  of  modern  art  I  now  could  hope  no  more 
for  life.  This  I  felt  ;  but  as  yet  I  knew  it  not  with 
full  distinctness  : — that  knowledge  I  was  not  to  gain 
till  later." 

Every  work  that  Wagner  wrote  was,  at  least  in  so 
far  as  it  was  related  to  his  own  life,  epoch-making  ; 
and  the  birth  of  "Tannhauser  "  marks  a  departure  so 
wide  that  it  must  receive  special  consideration.  The 
great  Wagner  war  began  with  the  production  of  this 
drama,  and  in  it  the  composer's  opponents  first  dis- 
covered those  "unmusical"  traits  which  they  cele- 
brated for  half  a  century,  till  the  applause  of  the 
civilised  world  drowned  out  their  noise.  The  hint  at 
the  dissatisfaction  of  the  man  with  the  "  paltriest  re- 
turn of  trivial  love  "  shows  us  that  the  inability  of  the 
good  Minna  to  enter  into  the  lofty  aspirations  of  her 
husband  and  her  inevitable  sympathy  with  the  false 
impulses  urging  toward  swift  pecuniary  success  had 
already  set  at  work  in  the  mind  of  Wagner  those 
dangerous  longings  which  were  eventually  to  lead  to 
their  separation. 


CHAPTER   VI 

"  LOHENGRIN  "   AND    "  DIE    MEISTERSINGER  " 
"  How  curious  I  am  to  hear  Liszt  about  it." — Wagner 

When  "  Tannhauser  "  had  been  completed  Wagner 
went  to  Marienbad  to  spend  the  summer.  While 
there  he  made  the  first  drafts  of  his  "  Meistersinger  " 
and  "Lohengrin."  He  says:  "As  with  the  Athe- 
nians a  merry  satyr-play  followed  the  tragedy,  so, 
during  that  excursion,  1  suddenly  conceived  the  idea 
of  a  comic  play  which  might  follow  my  minstrel's 
contest  in  the  Wartburg  as  a  significant  satyr-play. 
This  was  the  Mastersingers  of  Nuremberg  with  Hans 
Sachs  at  their  head.  Scarcely  had  I  finished  the  sketch 
of  this  plot  when  the  plan  of  '  Lohengrin '  began  to 
engage  my  attention,  and  left  me  no  rest  until  I  had 
worked  it  out  in  detail."  Returning  to  Dresden  he 
devoted  himself  to  the  preparations  for  the  production 
of  "Tannhauser."  For,  in  spite  of  the  failure  of 
"Der  Fliegende  Hollander,"  the  Intendant  had  not 
wholly  lost  faith  in  the  young  man.  August  Roeckel, 
who  was  now  always  at  Wagner's  side,  urged  so 
eloquently  the  need  of  new  scenery  for  this  drama 
that  painters  were  brought  from  Paris.  The  best 
singers  available  were  placed  at  Wagner's  disposal, 
and  they  vied  v^ith  one  another  in  studying  this,  to 

64 


"Lohengrin"  and  "Die  Meistersinger"  65 

them,  almost  incomprehensible  work.  Tichatschek 
had  to  have  the  music  of  "  Tannhauser  "  lowered  for 
him.  Johanna  Wagner,  the  daughter  of  the  composer's 
brother  Albert,  was  specially  engaged  for  Elizabeth, 
and  Schroeder-Devrient  took  Venus,  while  Mitter- 
wurzer  was  the  Wolfram.  Wagner  wrote  an  explana- 
tion of  his  poem,  and  placed  it  at  the  head  of  the 
libretto,  which  was  sold  at  the  door.  On  Oct.  19, 
1845,  the  work  was  performed  for  the  first  time. 
The  opening  scene  went  for  nothing.  Schroeder- 
Devrient,  who  did  not  like  the  music  of  Venus,  sang 
it  badly,  and  the  audience  lost  the  entire  significance 
of  the  episode.  The  ensuing  scene  went  well  and  the 
popular  septet  at  the  end  of  the  act  gained  the  com- 
poser a  recall.  The  march  in  the  second  act  pleased, 
but  the  contest  in  the  hall  of  song  dragged  listlessly. 
The  evening  star  song  was  liked,  but  then  came  the 
true  Wagner,  the  Wagner  of  the  uncompromising 
music  drama.  The  return  of  Tannhauser  and  his  de- 
spairing narrative  were  wholly  lost  on  the  audience. 
The  public  was  unable  to  understand  the  aims  of  a 
man  who,  having  a  heroic  tenor  on  the  stage  in  a 
grand  situation,  would  not  write  a  pealing  aria  for 
him,  but  persisted  in  making  him  tell  a  story  in  a  long 
declamatory  recitative.  The  master's  intent  to  put 
the  dramatic  situation  before  them  was  not  discerned. 
All  that  was  seen  was  that  he  would  not  write  a 
pretty  song  when  he  might  have  done  so.  "Tann- 
hauser "  reached  its  fourth  performance  on  Nov.  2. 
The  following  day  Wagner  wrote  to  his  friend  Carl 
Galliard  in  Berlin,  sending  him  a  copy  of  the  score  : 

"  I  have  gained  a  big  action  with  my  'Tannhauser.'     Let  me  give 
you  a  very  short  account  of  a   few   of  the   facts.     Owing   to   the 
5 


66  Richard  Wagner 

hoarseness  of  some  of  the  singers,  the  second  performance  was  played 
a  week  after  the  first ;  this  was  very  bad,  for  in  the  long  interval  igno- 
rance and  erroneous  knd  absurd  views,  fostered  by  my  enemies,  who 
exerted  themselves  vigorously,  had  full  scope  for  swaggering  about  ; 
and  when  the  moment  of\the  second  performance  at  length  arrived, 
my  opera  was  on  the  point  of  failing  ;  the  house  was  not  well  filled  ; 
opposition  !  prejudice  !  Luckily,  however,  all  the  singers  were  as  en- 
thusiastic as  ever  ;  intelligence  made  a  way  for  itself,  and  the  third  act, 
somewhat  shortened,  was  especially  successful  ;  after  the  singers  had 
been  called  out,  there  was  a  tumultuous  cry  for  me.  I  have  now 
formed  a  nucleus  among  the  public  ;  at  the  third  performance  there 
was  a  well-filled  house  and  an  enthusiastic  reception  of  the  work. 
After  every  act  the  singers  and  the  author  were  tumultuously  ap- 
plauded ;  in  the  third  act  at  the  words,  '  Heinrich,  du  bist  erlost,'  the 
house  resounded  with  an  outbreak  of  enthusiasm.  Yesterday  at  length 
the  fourth  performance  took  place  before  a  house  crammed  to  suffoca- 
tion ;  after  every  act  the  singers  were  called  out,  and  after  them  on 
each  occasion  the  author  ;  after  the  second  act  there  was  a  regular 
tumult.  Whenever  1  show  myself  people  greet  me  enthusiastically. 
My  dear  Galliard,  this  is  indeed  a  rare  success,  and  under  the  circum- 
stances one  for  which  1  scarcely  hoped." 

But  in  a  short  time  Wagner  realised  that  all  the 
applause  was  for  the  popular  numbers  in  his  work, 
and  for  the  stage  pictures  and  ensembles.  The  drama 
as  a  whole  had  missed  fire.  The  public  did  not  know 
whatWagner  designed.  The  ethical  meaning  of  his  play 
was  hidden  from  the  people.  Its  artistic  purport  was 
undiscerned.  The  public  still  went  to  the  theatre  to 
see  the  pretty  pictures  and  hear  the  pretty  tunes.  Of 
the  conception  of  an  opera  as  the  highest  form  of  poetic 
drama  they  were  as  ignorant  as  they  had  ever  been. 
A  few  years  later  Wagner,  in  recalling  this,  wrote  in 
the  "Communication  to  My  Friends"  : 

"  The  public  had  shown  me  plainly  by  its  enthusiastic  reception  of 
'  Rienzi'  and  by  the  colder  treatment  of  the  '  Dutchman,'  what  1  must 


"Lohengrin"  and  "Die  Meistersinger"  67 

offer  it  to  win  approval,  its  expectations  I  disappointed  utterly.  Con- 
fused and  dissatisfied  it  left  the  first  performance  of  '  Tannhauser.'  I 
was  overwhelmed  by  a  feeling  of  complete  isolation.  The  few  friends 
who  heartily  sympathised  with  me  were  themselves  so  depressed  by 
my  painful  position  that  the  perception  of  this  sympathetic  ill-humour 
was  the  only  friendly  sign  about  me." 

From  this  time  it  is  possible  to  trace  two  features  in 
the  career  of  Wagner.  The  first  was  a  ceaseless  effort 
to  spread  by  polemical  writings  the  meaning  of  his 
doctrines,  and  the  second  was  a  somewhat  reckless 
determination  to  abide  by  them,  come  what  might. 
Wagner  has  been  charged  with  grave  neglect  of  the 
practical  affairs  of  life.  He  was  interminably  in  debt. 
He  borrowed  money  right  and  left,  and  seemed  to 
entertain  an  idea  that  the  world  ought  to  support  such 
a  genius  as  he  while  he  was  pursuing  his  vast  projects. 
This  was  not  exactly  the  vein  of  Wagner's  thought, 
though  his  reckless  methods  of  expression  might  easily 
justify  the  belief  that  it  was.  The  man  was  aflame 
with  the  fire  of  his  own  genius.  He  knew  what  it 
was  in  him  to  produce,  and  he  rebelled  bitterly  against 
the  constant  pressure  of  his  daily  needs  to  turn  him 
aside,  to  force  him  to  write  pot-boilers  and  abandon 
his  vast  conceptions.  That  a  man  with  such  an 
artistic  conscience  as  Wagner's  could  not  compromise 
we  can  easily  understand  ;  and  the  struggle  of  the 
ensuing  years  began  with  the  decision  to  bring  the 
public  to  him,  and  not  to  descend  to  the  flowery  level 
on  which  it  reposed. 

Criticism  of  Wagner's  writings  at  this  time  was  of 
the  most  discouraging  sort.  In  Dresden,  for  instance, 
the  leading  commentator  was  one  Schladebach.  This 
gentleman  was,  perhaps,  a  perfectly  honest  critic,  but 


68  Richard  Wagner 

he  was  incompetent  to  discern  the  importance  of  a 
departure  from  the  beaten  path.  He  constituted  him- 
self the  champion  of  classicism,  for  which  poor  con- 
ventionality is  so  often  and  so  easily  mistaken.  When 
a  number  of  famous  masters  have  laid  down  the  plan 
of  opera,  it  is  extremely  confusing  to  a  poor  critic  to 
have  a  stranger  appear  and  propose  a  wholly  different 
method  of  treating  the  form.  Schladebach  was  in- 
capable of  understanding  the  theories  and  aims  of 
Wagner ;  so  he  praised  whatever  was  good  according 
to  the  old  models,  and  condemned  what  departed  from 
them.  He  was  the  correspondent  of  the  leading 
papers  of  many  German  cities,  and  consequently  the 
belief  was  spread  abroad  that,  while  this  man  Wagner 
had  some  talent,  he  was  unpractical  and  hopelessly 
eccentric.  The  managers  paid  no  attention  to  him,  in 
many  cases  they  did  not  even  look  at  the  scores  which 
he  sent  them. 

Robert  Schumann,  who  went  to  live  in  Dresden 
in  the  fall  of  1844,  wrote  to  Dorn  in  1846,  "1  wish 
you  could  see  'Tannhiiuser'  ;  it  contains  deeper, 
more  original,  and  altogether  an  hundredfold  better 
things  than  his  previous  operas  —  at  the  same  time 
a  good  deal  that  is  musically  trivial.  On  the  whole, 
Wagner  may  become  of  great  importance  and  signifi- 
cance to  the  stage,  and  I  am  sure  he  is  possessed  of  the 
needful  courage."  Unfortunately  the  pressure  of  the 
general  opinion  of  the  time  proved  to  be  too  strong  even 
for  Schumann,  and  a  few  years  later  he  wrote  that 
Wagner  was  "not  a  good  musician."  Spohr,  who 
produced  "Tannhauser"  in  1853,  wrote,  "The  opera 
contains  much  that  is  new  and  beautiful,  also  several 
ugly  attacks  on  one's  ears."     In  another  place  he  com- 


"Lohengrin" and  "Die  Meistersinger"  69 

plains  of  the  "absence  of  definite  rhythm  and  the 
frequent  lack  of  rounded  periods."  In  none  of  the 
contemporaneous  criticism,  except  that  written  by 
Wagner's  intimates,  can  one  find  anything  to  show 
that  the  writers  had  discerned  the  artistic  purpose  of 
the  composer.  It  is  not  strange  that  he  felt  that  he 
stood  alone. 

Nor  is  it,  on  the  whole,  strange  that  he  was  mis- 
understood. As  for  the  critics,  they  had  formed  their 
standards  of  opera  on  the  masterpieces  of  Meyerbeer, 
Spontini,  and  Rossini.  Even  in  Mozart  they  were 
unable  to  find  justification  for  Wagner's  ideas,  for  it 
was  his  novelty  in  form  that  confused  them.  The 
public  had  long  placed  opera  in  the  category  of 
"amusements."  It  went  to  the  opera  house  to  hear 
arias,  duos,  quartets,  sung  by  great  singers,  while  the 
story,  told  chiefly  in  recitatives,  was  regarded  merely 
as  an  excuse  for  the  presentation  of  certain  poetic 
points  of  emotion  to  be  set  to  music.  When  Wagner 
came,  demanding  that  the  music  should  be  only  one 
means  of  expression  of  the  whole  emotional  content 
of  a  consistent  drama,  and  that  it  should  not  be  simply 
a  string  of  pretty  tunes,  we  can  easily  understand  that: 
he  was  far  beyond  the  public  of  his  day,  and  we  can 
picture  to  ourselves  the  unhappy  Intendant,  asking 
him  why  it  was  necessary  to  be  so  distressing,  and 
why  Tannhiluser  could  not  marry  Elizabeth. 

In  the  year  1847  Wagner's  musical  activity  was  con- 
fined almost  wholly  to  work  upon  his  "Lohengrin." 
He  lived  in  retirement  as  much  as  possible,  and  gave 
himself  up  to  the  realisation  of  those  artistic  projects 
with  which  he  felt  that  his  entire  surroundings  were 
unsympathetic.    In  the  winter  of  1845  he  had  conceived 


70  Richard  Wagner 

and  noted  the  principal  themes.  In  the  fall  of  1846 
he  lived  in  a  villa  at  Grosgraufen,  near  Pilnitz,  and 
there  he  began  the  music.  In  the  summer  of  1847 
he  secluded  himself  wholly,  and  on  August  28  he 
finished  the  introduction,  which  for  more  than  half  a 
century  has  thrilled  hearers  all  over  the  world.  The 
scoring  of  the  entire  opera  was  completed  in  the  early 
spring.  While  Wagner  must  have  realised  the  artistic 
value  of  this  new  work,  he  must  also  have  seen  how 
much  further  he  had  removed  himself  from  the  possi- 
bility of  public  comprehension  than  he  had  in  his 
"  Tannhauser."  He  even  doubted  the  practicability  of 
opera  as  an  art  form.  The  Intendant  of  the  Dresden 
opera  did  not  feel  any  sympathy  with  the  composer's 
experim.ental  mood,  and  only  the  finale  of  the  third 
act  of  "Lohengrin,"  performed  on  September  22, 
1848,  at  the  anniversary  celebration  of  the  orchestra, 
was  heard  in  Dresden. 

Meanwhile  although  "Tannhauser"  had  been  re- 
fused a  hearing  at  Berlin,  preparations  had  been  made 
for  the  production  of  "  Rienzi,"  and  the  birthday  of 
the  King  of  Prussia,  Oct.  5,  1847,  had  been  chosen  as 
the  date  for  the  performance.  Wagner  went  to  Berlin 
to  superintend  the  rehearsals.  There  he  found  that 
anti-Wagnerism  was  in  full  bloom.  The  newspapers 
began  the  attack  before  the  work  was  made  known, 
and  every  possible  rumour  that  envy  and  jealousy  could 
invent  found  ready  acceptance.  The  fate  of  "  Rienzi  " 
was  sealed  in  advance.  The  manager  of  the  opera 
discovered  that  the  text  of  the  work  breathed  a  revo- 
lutionary spirit  quite  out  of  keeping  with  the  temper 
of  a  royal  fete,  and  accordingly  the  production  was 
postponed  till  Oct.  26.     On  that  evening  "Rienzi" 


"Lohengrin"  and  ''Die  Meistersinger"  71 

was  given,  but  the  King  was  not  present,  the  court 
did  not  attend,  and  Meyerbeer,  who  was  the  general 
director  of  music,  was  suddenly  called  out  of  town. 
There  was  an  audience  of  good  size  and  the  applause 
was  of  a  liberal  character  ;  but  there  was  no  hope  of 
permanent  success  in  Berlin  without  the  smiles  of 
royalty  and  the  favourable  comment  of  the  press. 
So  Wagner  saw  his  dreams  of  pecuniary  aid  from 
this  early  work  fade  away,  and  leave  him  to  strug- 
gle with  the  constantly  growing  problem  of  how  to 
live. 

The  eventful  year  1848  was  now  at  hand,  a  year 
which  was  big  with  incidents  in  the  personal  and 
artistic  life  of  Wagner.  It  was  in  this  year  that  the 
political  troubles  which  harassed  the  kingdom  of 
Saxony,  and  Germany  in  general,  made  themselves 
felt  in  the  opera  house  and  afterward  in  the  career  of 
the  composer.  The  work  of  the  opera  house  was 
affected  by  the  general  unrest.  Nothing  serious  was 
undertaken.  The  list  of  the  season  was  made  up 
chiefly  of  works  of  the  calibre  of  Flotow's  "Martha," 
then  in  the  height  of  its  popularity.  The  orchestra 
gave  three  subscription  concerts,  and  at  one  of  these 
Wagner  conducted  Bach's  eight-part  motet,  "  Singt 
dem  Herrn  ein  neues  Lied."  In  March  he  finished  the 
instrumentation  of  "Lohengrin"  and  then  his  mind 
began  to  busy  itself  with  a  new  subject.  The  first 
which  attracted  him  was  "Jesus  of  Nazareth."  The 
impulse  which  led  him  to  the  contemplation  of  this 
subject  was  so  plainly  identical  with  that  which  after- 
ward led  to  the  creation  of  "  Parsifal  "  that  it  is  worth 
while  to  note  how  far  he  went  in  its  embodiment. 
He   collected   a   large   quantity  of   material   for   this 


72  Richard  Wagner 

projected  work,  and  published  it  afterward  in  a  volume 
of  a  hundred  pages.* 

At  this  period,  too,  he  seriously  contemplated  the 
employment  of  the  story  of  Barbarossa,  or  Friedrich 
Rothbart,  as  material  for  a  lyric  drama.  His  study  of 
this  subject  was  of  inestimable  value  to  him  in  shaping 
clearly  in  his  mind  the  conviction  that  a  mythical  sub- 
ject was  more  suitable  than  one  historical  for  the  pur- 
pose of  musical  treatment.  He  discovered  that  he 
could  not  give  to  the  splendid  personality  of  Barbarossa 
the  necessary  historical  back-ground  without  over- 
loading his  opera  with  a  host  of  minor  details  too  in- 
flexible for  musical  treatment.  On  the  other  hand  to 
endeavour  to  sacrifice  historical  accuracy  to  dramatic 
requirements  would  materially  change  the  true  char- 
acter of  his  subject.  He  became  convinced  that  only 
a  mythical  subject,  in  which  elementary  world- 
thoughts  and  emotions  were  typified,  would  admit  of 
free  musical  treatment.  His  serious  study  of  this 
whole  matter  resulted  in  an  essay  entitled,  "Die 
Wibelungen. — Weltgeschichte  aus  der  Sage  "  ("  The 
Wibelungs  :  world-history  from  the  Saga  ").  The 
essay  treats  of  the  history  of  the  world  according  to 
tradition,  showing  the  agreement  of  history  and 
mythology  in  certain  elementary  facts.  It  was  written 
in  1848  and  was  published  at  Leipsic  in  1850.  It  will 
be  found  in  Vol.  VII.  of  Mr.  Ellis's  translation  of  the 
prose  works. 

*  "Jesus  von  Nazareth,  von  R.  Wagner."  Leipsic,  1887.  Transla- 
tion in  8th  Vol.  of  Mr.  Ellis's  edition  of  the  prose  works. 


CHAPTER  VII 

"art  and  revolution" 

"  Behold  Mercury,  and  his  docile  handmaid,  Modern  Art!  " 

Wagner 

The  period  of  Wagner's  life  which  we  have  now 
reached  was  one  of  much  complication  and  of  im- 
portant results.  With  the  decision  to  abandon  the 
subject  of  Barbarossa  he  made  another,  namely  that 
the  story  of  the  Nibelungen  Lied  and  its  original  ma- 
terial as  found  in  the  Volsunga  Saga  would  provide 
excellent  material  for  a  music  drama.  His  conception 
was  first  formulated  in  an  article  entitled  "  The  Nibe- 
lung  Myth  as  Sketch  for  a  Drama  "  (Ellis's  translation. 
Vol.  VII.).  This  was  followed  by  the  first  form  of  the 
text  of  the  drama,  "Siegfried's  Tod,"  a  translation  of 
which  will  be  found  in  Mr.  Ellis's  eighth  volume. 
Wagner's  first  thought  was  to  tell  the  entire  story  of 
the  death  of  Siegfried  and  the  causes  leading  to  it  in 
one  opera,  but  he  was  not  long  in  discovering  that  this 
was  impossible.  In  June,  1849,  ^^  wrote  to  Franz 
Liszt,  with  whom  he  had  begun  a  correspondence* 
in  1841  (though  it  did  not  become  continuous  till  1845) 
in  these    words  :     "Meanwhile  I  shall  employ  my 

♦  "  Correspondence  of  Wagner  and  Liszt,"  edited  by  Francis  Hueffer, 
2  Vols.,  London,  1888. 

73 


74  Richard  Wagner 

time  in  setting  to  music  my  latest  German  drama, 
'The  Deatii  of  Siegfried.'  Within  half  a  year  I  shall 
send  you  the  opera  completed."  In  185 1  in  a  long 
letter  to  Liszt  he  explained  how  he  had  found  it  im- 
possible to  condense  the  whole  story  into  one  drama, 
and  afterward  even  into  two,  and  thus  how  the  work 
had  stretched  itself  into  four  separate  dramas. 

At  the  time  of  the  writing  of  the  original  form  of 
the  book  Wagner  also  conceived  some  of  the  germs 
of  the  music,  and  in  this,  too,  lay  the  seed  of  a  new 
and  wonderful  development  of  his  genius.  His 
"  Lohengrin  "  marked  a  wide  departure  from  the  style 
of  his  "Tannhauser,"  but  in  the  dramas  based  on  the 
Siegfried  legend  he  went  much  further.  He  felt  in  the 
beginning  that  he  would  be  forced  to  do  so,  and  in 
the  fall  of  1850  he  wrote  to  Liszt  :  "  Between  the 
musical  execution  of  my  '  Lohengrin  '  and  that  of  my 
'  Siegfried  '  there  lies  for  me  a  stormy,  but  I  feel  con- 
vinced, a  fruitful  world."  The  correspondence  be- 
tween Wagner  and  Liszt  had  grown  into  warmth 
when  the  latter  undertook  the  preparation  of  "Tann- 
hauser "  for  production  at  Weimar,  where  he  was  the 
ruling  power  in  music.  No  one  who  desires  to  be 
intimately  acquainted  with  the  life  of  Wagner  should 
omit  reading  this  correspondence,  which  throws  more 
light  on  the  artistic  and  personal  character  of  the  two 
men  than  anything  else  in  existence.  It  is  highly 
creditable  to  Liszt  that  he  early  recognised  the  full 
force  of  the  genius  of  Wagner  and  bowed  to  him  as  a 
superior.  On  the  other  hand  Wagner,  who  was 
hopelessly  improvident  and  always  in  the  depths  of 
monetary  difficulties,  came  to  lean  on  Liszt  as  a  friend 
in  all  needs. 


''Art  and  Revolution"  75 

It  is  possible  that  through  the  influence  of  Liszt 
Wagner  might  have  gained  wide  recognition  through- 
out Germany  much  sooner  than  he  did,  but  his  own 
sympathy  with  the  revolutionary  ideas  of  the  time 
led  him  into  direct  conflict  with  authority  in  Saxony 
and  drove  him  into  exile.  The  story  of  Wagner's 
connection  with  the  revolutionary  movements  of  1848 
and  1849  has  had  several  versions,  and  it  has  been  the 
subject  of  acrid  dispute  between  Wagner's  devotees 
and  those  who  are  only  candid  friends.  The  story  of 
the  Saxon  uprising  need  not  be  repeated  here  in  de- 
tail. Suffice  it  to  say  that  the  impetus  of  the  French 
revolution  of  1848  moved  the  people  of  Saxony  to 
demand  of  their  king  a  constitution,  a  free  press,  trial 
by  jury,  national  armies,  and  representation.  The 
king  refused  to  accede  to  the  demands.  A  sec- 
ond time  through  a  deputation  Leipsic  people  de- 
manded what  they  regarded  as  their  rights  and 
threatened  to  attack  Dresden,  if  these  were  not  con- 
ceded. The  king  adopted  conciliatory  measures, 
which  served  to  allay  the  excitement  for  a  time,  but 
the  people  soon  saw  that  under  the  surface  oppres- 
sion was  gaining  headway. 

Wagner  and  his  friend  and  assistant,  August  Roeckel, 
the  latter  an  enthusiastic  republican,  became  members 
of  a  society  known  as  the  "Fatherland  Union,"  an 
organisation  devoted  to  the  furtherance  of  reform 
measures,  but  not  in  favour  of  direct  disloyalty  to  the 
king.  Before  this  society  on  June  16  Wagner  read  a 
paper  entitled  "What  is  the  Relation  of  our  Efforts 
to  the  Monarchy.^"  Wagner  had  previously  drawn 
up  for  the  government  a  plan  for  the  reorganisation 
of  the  Dresden  Theatre.     In  that  paper  he  proposed 


76  Richard  Wagner 

that  the  changes  in  the  existing  arrangements  be  made 
so  that  the  theatre  would  be  brought  into  closer  rela- 
tions with  the  higher  artistic  life  of  the  people.  It 
was  at  this  period,  too,  that  he  wrote  "  Art  and  Rev- 
olution," in  which  he  still  further  demonstrated  that 
he  saw  a  connection  between  political  and  artistic  re- 
form, or  rather  that  he  believed  the  latter  impossible 
under  the  restrictions  of  extant  governmental  control. 
He  aimed  at  a  sort  of  republican  representation  in 
art,  a  plan  by  which  the  literary  and  artistic  elements 
of  the  community  might  have  voices  in  the  direction 
of  the  theatre.  He  saw  no  way  of  bringing  this  about 
except  by  a  change  in  the  nature  of  the  government. 

Therefore  in  this  paper  read  before  the  Vaterlands- 
verein  he  demanded  general  suffrage,  abolition  of  the 
standing  army  and  the  aristocracy,  and  the  conversion 
of  Saxony  into  a  republic.  His  loyalty  to  the  king 
was  shown  by  his  proposal  that  he  should  himself 
proclaim  the  republic  and  remain  in  office  at  its  head. 
This  speech  was  published  and  it  caused  a  good  deal 
of  unfavourable  comment.  Yet  it  was  not  taken  very 
seriously,  for  Wagner  was  warned  that  a  Court  Con- 
ductor should  not  indulge  in  such  talk  ;  he  wrote  a 
long  letter  of  extenuation  to  Luttichau,  the  Intendant ; 
asked  for  a  brief  leave  of  absence,  and  obtained  it. 
And  that  would  have  been  the  end  of  the  matter  in 
all  probability,  had  not  open  insurrection  broken  out. 

It  was  in  regard  to  the  acts  of  Wagner  in  the  days 
of  turmoil  in  May,  1849,  that  the  acrid  dispute  before 
mentioned  raged  in  1892.  This  dispute  was  caused 
chiefly  by  the  statements  of  Ferdinand  Praeger  in 
"Wagner  as  I  Knew  Him."  Among  other  things 
Praeger  said,    "During  the  first  few  of  his  eleven 


"Art  and  Revolution"  t'] 

years  of  exile  his  talk  was  incessantly  about  the  out- 
break, and  the  active  aid  he  rendered  at  the  time,  and 
of  his  services  to  the  cause  by  speech  and  by  pen 
prior  to  the  1849  May  days  ;  and  yet  in  after  life,  in  his 
talk  with  me,  who  held  documentary  evidence,  under 
his  own  hand,  of  his  participation,  he  in  petulant 
tones  sought  either  to  minimise  the  part  he  played  or 
to  explain  it  away  altogether.  This  change  of  front  I 
first  noticed  about  1864  at  Munich."  With  this  as  his 
text  Praeger  set  out  to  show  that  Wagner  was  a  red- 
handed  revolutionary,  and  that  he  fought  on  the  bar- 
ricades in  the  streets  of  Dresden. 

It  was  my  fortune  to  read  these  assertions  of 
Praeger's  before  they  were  published.  The  manu- 
script of  his  book  was  placed  in  my  hands  by  his 
publishers  in  1892  to  be  prepared  for  the  press.  The 
author  was  dead  and  no  changes  could  be  made  in  his 
work.  It  seemed  to  me  at  the  time  that  Praeger  had 
written  incautiously  of  this  whole  matter,  and  that  at 
any  rate  he  might  fairly  have  represented  Wagner  as 
desirous  in  after  years  to  bury  the  memories  of  an  un- 
wise exhibition  of  his  republican  tendencies.  But  of 
Praeger's  honesty  I  never  had  a  doubt,  nor  had  I  any 
reason  to  suppose  that  he  was  not  well  informed 
(through  his  intimate  friendship  with  Roeckel)  of 
Wagner's  actions  in  the  May  days  of  1849.  Pohl, 
Glasenapp,  and  Tappert  had  said  but  little  in  regard  to 
the  matter,  and,  as  I  was  not  editing,  but  merely 
supervising  the  printing  of  the  book,  it  would  not 
have  been  open  to  me  to  write  so  much  as  a  foot-note 
of  warning  to  the  reader  to  take  Praeger's  statements 
with  a  grain  of  salt,  even  if  I  had  been  fully  informed 
of  the  real  facts  in  the  case. 


78  Richard  Wagner 

But  Wagner  was  not  without  a  champion.  Mr.  W. 
Ashton  Ellis,  editor  of  "The  Meister,"  and  translator 
of  the  prose  works,  published  in  1892  a  complete 
answer  to  Praeger  under  the  title  of  "  1849  •  ^  Vindi- 
cation." In  this  he  showed  that  Praeger  had  formed 
a  theory  as  to  Wagner's  part  in  the  revolution  and  had 
wrested  the  facts  to  make  them  appear  as  evidence. 
He  also  proved  that  some  of  the  acts  attributed  to 
Wagner  were  those  of  a  young  journeyman  baker  of 
the  same  name.  The  real  facts  of  the  case,  as  I  have 
sifted  them  from  the  conflictmg  testimony,  appear  to 
be  these  : 

Wagner's  mind  was  filled  with  a  conviction  that 
freedom  and  the  honesty  of  art  went  hand  in  hand. 
His  reformatory  ideas  embraced  not  only  the  stage, 
but  its  relations  to  governmental  control,  through 
which  its  artistic  character  must  be  touched  and  guided. 
The  stage  could  never  be  brought  to  represent  the  spirit 
of  the  people  till  the  government  was.  All  around  him 
he  saw  the  relics  of  feudalism,  and  the  innate  hostility 
of  these  to  that  freedom  of  art  and  public  to  which  he 
looked  forward  made  him  a  republican  at  heart.  His 
paper  read  before  the  Fatherland  Union  was,  as  we 
have  seen,  a  plea  for  free  government  and  representa- 
tion by  the  people,  but  it  was  filled  with  a  spirit  of 
loyalty  to  the  reigning  king. 

When  the  revolutionary  movement  took  shape 
Wagner,  as  Mr.  Ellis  notes,  did  not  hesitate  between 
the  dictates  of  his  conscience  and  the  preservation  of 
court  favour.  He  became,  as  he  afterward  confessed 
in  a  letter  to  Liszt,  openly  active  in  the  movement. 
But  the  stories  of  his  firing  a  musket  from  the  barri- 
cades and  setting  fire  to  public  buildings  are   pure 


"Art  and  Revolution"  79 

fabrications.  Praeger's  narrative  of  his  revolutionary 
activity  is  misleading,  and  Mr.  Ellis's  pamphlet  has 
quite  demolished  it.  Wagner  assisted  in  getting  men 
and  stores  into  Dresden,  and  he  probably  carried  a 
musket  while  engaged  in  this  work.  At  the  Town 
Hall  he  publicly  embraced  one  of  the  revolutionary 
leaders  after  the  latter  had  made  a  speech.  On  May 
I,  1849,  the  king  dissolved  the  Saxon  diet,  and  the 
people  went  to  arms.  The  insurgents  were  victorious 
in  the  beginning,  but  Prussian  troops  arrived  )6  hours 
later,  and  the  revolutionaries  were  put  to  flight. 
Wagner  escaped  from  Dresden  and  hurried  to  Weimar, 
where  he  took  refuge  under  the  wing  of  Liszt,  then 
actively  preparing  "Tannhauser"  for  performance. 

Mr.  Praeger  says  :  "Future  biographers  can  no 
longer  ignobly  treat  the  patriotism  of  Wagner  by 
striving  to  whitewash  or  gloss  over  the  part  he  played 
during  these  sad  days."  It  is  the  hope  of  the  present 
biographer  that  he  will  not  be  accused  of  any  attempt 
to  conceal  the  truth  in  regard  to  this  matter,  especially 
as  he  has  not  been  able  to  discover  in  it  anything  dis- 
creditable to  Wagner.  His  action  was  injudicious,  it 
was  impulsive,  it  was  shortsighted;  but  it  was  honest. 
If  in  after  years  Wagner  saw  that  the  regeneration  of 
the  theatre  might  be  accomplished  without  the  over- 
throw of  extant  forms  of  government,  and  if  at  the 
same  time  he  wished  ardently  to  return  to  his  native 
land,  it  was  not  at  all  surprising  that  he  expressed  sor- 
row for  his  actions.  It  was  quite  natural  indeed  that 
in  April,  1856,  he  wrote  to  Liszt: 

"  In  regard  to  that  riot  and  its  sequels,  I  am  willing  to  confess  that 
I  now  consider  myself  to  have  been  in  the  wrong  at  that  time,  and 
carried  away  by  my  passions,  although  1  am  conscious  of  not  having 


8o  Richard  Wagner 

committed  any  crime  that  would  properly  come  before  the  courts,  so 
that  it  would  be  difficult  for  me  to  confess  to  any  such." 

Disheartened  as  Wagner  was  at  the  inartistic  condi- 
tions surrounding  the  theatre  at  Dresden,  it  was  not 
astonishing  that  he  rejoiced  in  the  excuse  for  flight, 
and  that  he  hastened  to  Weimar  with  a  jubilant  spirit. 
That  Liszt  was  glad  to  receive  him  thus  unexpectedly 
goes  without  saying.  It  was  this  meeting  which 
perfected  the  understanding  between  these  two  re- 
markable men,  and  which  cemented  indissolubly  the 
friendship  hitherto  dependent  on  their  letters  for  its 
support.  They  came  to  know  one  another  intimately, 
and  from  that  time  onward  Liszt  was  the  main  prop  of 
Wagner.  As  Mr.  Finck  well  summarises  it  in  his  life 
of  Wagner:  "A  few  letters  had  passed  between  the 
two,  and  they  had  met  several  times,  but  it  was  not 
until  this  occasion  that  their  hearts  were  really  opened 
towards  each  other,  and  the  beginning  was  made  of 
a  friendship  unequalled  in  cordiality  and  importance 
in  the  history  of  art,  and  without  the  existence  of 
which  the  world  would  in  all  probability  have  never 
seen  the  better  half  of  Wagner's  music  dramas.  It 
was  Liszt  who  helped  him  with  funds  when  he  would 
otherwise  have  been  compelled  to  stop  composing 
and  earn  his  bread  like  the  commonest  day  labourer; 
Liszt  who  sustained  him  with  his  approval  when  all 
the  critical  world  was  against  him;  Liszt  who  brought 
out  his  operas  when  all  other  conductors  ignored 
them;  Liszt  who  wrote  letters,  private  and  journal- 
istic, about  his  friend's  works  and  aims,  besides  three 
long  and  enthusiastic  essays  on  '  Tannhauser,'  '  Lohen- 
grin,' and  the  'Dutchman.'  which  were  printed  in 
German  and  French,  and  with  the  Weimar  perform- 


*'Art  and  Revolution"  8i 

ances  of  these  operas,  gave  the  first  impulse  to  'the 
Wagner  movement.'" 

Of  the  greatest  importance  to  Wagner  was  Liszt's 
understanding  of  his  artistic  aims.  Wagner  said 
that  when  he  saw  Liszt  conduct  a  rehearsal  of 
"Tannhauser,"  he  recognised  a  second  self  in  the 
achievement.  Discouraged  as  he  had  been  on  leaving 
Dresden,  his  spirits  now  rose  again,  and  he  would  un- 
doubtedly have  settled  down  in  Weimar  to  pursue  his 
artistic  labours  under  the  protection  of  Liszt,  had  not 
news  come  that  he  was  wanted  by  the  police.  A 
warrant  was  issued  for  him  as  a  politically  dangerous 
person  and  his  description  was  published.  As  soon 
as  this  news  was  received,  Wagner,  acting  on  Liszt's 
advice,  fled. 

So  hasty  was  his  departure  that,  as  we  learn  from  a 
letter  of  Liszt  to  Carl  Reinecke,  he  left  Weimar  on  the 
very  day  of  a  performance  of  "Tannhauser,"  which 
he,  therefore,  did  not  witness.  This  was  in  the  latter 
part  of  May.  He  went  directly  to  Zurich,  where  he 
remained  a  few  days  and  obtained  a  passport  for 
France.  He  wrote  from  Zurich  to  a  Weimar  friend, 
O.  L.  B.  Wolff,  that  Liszt  would  soon  receive  a  bun- 
dle of  scores  from  Minna,  his  wife. 

"  The  score  of  my  '  Lohengrin,' "  he  wrote,  "  I  beg  him  to  examine 
leisurely.  It  is  my  latest,  ripest  work.  No  artist  has  seen  it  yet,  and 
of  none  have  I  therefore  been  able  to  ascertain  what  impression  it  may 
produce.     Now  I  am  anxious  to  hear  what  Liszt  has  to  say  about  it." 

From  this  same  letter  we  learn  that  Minna  had  been 
left  in  the  city  from  which  Wagner  had  fled.  He 
says: 

"That  wonderful  man  must  also  look  after  my  poor  wife.     I  am 
6 


82  Richard  Wagner 

particularly  anxious  to  get  her  out  of  Saxony,  and  especially  out  of 
that  d d  Dresden." 

It  is  necessary  only  to  say  that  while  Liszt  at  first 
had  doubts  of  the  public  success  of  "Lohengrin," 
owing  to  what  he  called  its  "superideal  character," 
he  immediately  recognised  its  artistic  greatness,  and 
was  the  first  to  bring  it  before  the  public. 

In  Zurich  Wagner  contemplated  the  stern  necessity 
of  doing  something  toward  the  support  of  himself  and 
wife,  and  he  saw  in  the  production  of  an  opera  in 
Paris  his  only  hope.  Accordingly  he  set  out  for  the 
French  capital.  Liszt  had  already  written  to  Belloni, 
an  influential  person  in  the  musical  circles  of  Paris: 

"  In  the  first  place,  we  want  to  create  a  success  for  a  grand,  heroic, 
enchanting  musical  work,  the  score  of  which  was  completed  a  year 
ago.  Perhaps  this  could  be  done  in  London.  Chorley,  for  instance, 
might  be  very  helpful  to  him  in  this  undei taking.  If  Wagner  next 
winter  could  go  to  Paris  backed  up  by  this  success,  the  doors  of  the 
Opera  would  stand  open  to  him,  no  matter  with  what  he  might  knock." 

Wagner  had  a  consultation  with  Belloni  in  Paris, 
and  was  convinced  that  nothing  could  be  done  with 
his  extant  works.  He  decided  that  he  must  spend  a 
year  and  a  half  in  the  preparation  of  a  new  work,  and 
for  that  purpose  he  must  live  in  seclusion  with  his 
wife.  He  tells  Liszt  in  a  long  letter  that  he  has  de- 
cided on  Zurich,  and  begs  Liszt  to  make  arrangements 
for  an  income  for  him  from  his  works  so  that  he  can 
live  to  write  more.  He  says  that  he  is  fit  for  nothing 
but  to  write  operas;  he  must  create  some  genuine  art 
work  or  perish.  He  has  arranged  to  send  from  Zurich 
to  Belloni  a  sketch  of  a  work  for  Paris,  and  Belloni  is 
to  get  a  French  version  made.  Meanwhile  Wagner 
will  be  working  on  the  "Death  of  Siegfried."     And 


"Art  and  Revolution"  83 

so,  after  this  brief  and  futile  visit  to  Paris  in  June, 
1849,  we  find  iiim  back  at  Zuricii  early  in  July.  And 
now  it  became  his  fixed  idea  to  get  his  wife  out  of 
Dresden  and  settled  down  in  some  sort  of  a  home  in 
Zurich.  But  he  had  no  means.  Once  more,  then,  he 
appealed  to  the  unfailing  friend  Liszt.  He  tells  the 
great  pianist  that  he  has  no  further  resources,  and  says: 

"  You,  therefore,  I  implore  by  all  that  is  dear  to  you  to  raise  and 
collect  as  much  as  you  possibly  can,  and  send  it,  not  to  me,  but  to 
my  wife,  so  that  she  may  have  enough  to  get  away  and  join  me  with 
the  assurance  of  being  able  to  live  with  me  free  from  care  for  some 
time  at  least.  Dearest  friend,  you  care  for  my  welfare,  my  soul,  my 
art.  Once  more  restore  to  me  my  art!  I  do  not  cling  to  a  home,  but 
1  cling  to  this  poor,  good,  faithful  woman,  to  whom  as  yet  1  have 
caused  nothing  but  grief,  who  is  of  a  careful,  serious  disposition,  with- 
out enthusiasm,  and  who  feels  herself  chained  forever  to  such  a  reck- 
less devil  as  myself." 

These  words  go  far  toward  revealing  the  true  nature 
of  the  relations  of  Wagner  and  Minna.  They  also  do 
credit  to  his  justice,  but  at  the  same  time  show  how 
completely  unsettled  he  was  at  this  period.  Liszt 
hastened  to  reply  in  a  letter  beginning  :  "In  answer 
to  your  letter  1  have  remitted  one  hundred  thalers  to 
your  wife  at  Dresden.  This  sum  has  been  handed  to 
me  by  an  admirer  of  '  Tannhauser,'  whom  you  do  not 
know  and  who  has  especially  asked  me  not  to  name 
him  to  you."  * 

In  due  time  Minna  arrived  in  Zurich  only  to  begin 

*  In  his  residence  at  Zurich,  Wagner  was  also  pecuniarily  aided  by 
Wilhelm  Baumgartner,  a  music  teacher,  Jacob  Sulzer,  a  local  office 
holder,  Mme.  Laussot,  and  Frau  Julie  Ritter,  whose  son  Carl  was 
associated  with  Wagner's  musical  activities  in  the  Swiss  city.  Frau 
Ritter  placed  a  permanent  fund  to  Wagner's  credit.  Others  who  aided 
him  will  be  incidentally  mentioned. 


84  Richard  Wagner 

to  combat  her  husband's  artistic  inclinations.  He  was 
eager  to  write  "The  Death  of  Siegfried."  She  urged 
him  to  abandon  his  unprofitable  ideals,  and  to  write 
for  Paris  the  sort  of  opera  that  Paris  would  like.  For 
Minna  was  ashamed  of  living  on  the  charity  of  friends, 
and  for  that  we  cannot  blame  her.  Nor  can  we  even 
yet  bring  ourselves  quite  into  agreement  with  Wagner 
in  the  belief  that  the  world  ought  to  take  care  of  him 
while  he  was  creating  his  immortal  works.  Yet  there 
was  something  large  and  genial  in  the  conception. 
The  man  felt  the  power  that  was  in  him,  and  he  re- 
fused to  stifle  it  in  order  that  he  might  discharge  the 
simple  duties  of  a  plain  citizen  and  support  himself 
and  his  family  at  the  sacrifice  of  his  future,  and  the 
future  of  his  art. 

It  was  to  this  struggle  between  himself  and  his  own 
desires  on  the  one  hand  and  his  wife  and  Liszt  on  the 
other  that  his  inactivity  in  musical  production  for  a 
long  period  was  due.  His  whole  mind  was  in  a  state 
of  unrest.  Yet  the  period  of  his  exile  proved  in  the 
end  to  be  the  most  fruitful  of  his  life,  and  in  Zurich 
the  name  of  Wagner  was  made  immortal. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

PREACHING  WHAT   HE  PRACTISED 
"  Doch  ich  bin  so  allein." — Siegfried 

The  first  years  of  Wagner's  residence  at  Zurich  were 
occupied  with  the  writing  of  works  designed  to  pro- 
pagate the  reformatory  ideas  which  he  aimed  at  intro- 
ducing into  the  composition  and  performance  of  opera. 
It  has  been  noted  that  after  the  first  performances  of 
"Tannhauser"  he  felt  that  the  public  would  have  to 
be  educated  up  to  his  conception  of  art,  and  he  now 
set  to  work  to  produce  the  necessary  doctrinary  essays. 
Through  the  kindness  of  Otto  Wesendonck,  a  music- 
lover  and  admirer  of  his  work,  he  was  able  to  rent  at 
a  low  price  a  pretty  chalet  overlooking  the  lake,  and 
there  he  lived  and  laboured  in  retirement.  He  was 
too  profoundly  discouraged  at  first  to  undertake  com- 
position, and  for  five  years  he  brought  forth  no  music. 
The  problem  of  how  to  live  stared  him  in  the  face  in 
all  its  frightful  nakedness.  He  wrote  to  Liszt  in  the 
fall  of  1849  • 

"  How  and  whence  shall  I  get  enough  to  live?  Is  my  finished 
work  '  Lohengrin  '  worth  nothing?  Is  the  opera  which  I  am  longing 
to  complete  worth  nothing  ?  It  is  true  that  to  the  present  generation 
and  to  publicity  as  it  is  these  must  appear  as  a  useless  luxury.  But 
how  about  the  few  who  love  these  works  ?  Siiould  not  they  be  allowed 

85 


86  Richard  Wagner 

to  offer  to  the  poor  suffering  creator — not  a  remuneration,  but  the  bare 
possibility  of  continuing  to  create?  .  .  .  Tell  me;  advise  me! 
Hitherto  my  wife  and  1  have  kept  ourselves  alive  by  the  help  of  a 
friend  here.  By  the  end  of  this  month  of  October  our  last  florins  will 
be  gone,  and  a  wide,  beautiful  world  lies  before  me,  in  which  1  have 
nothing  to  eat,  nothing  to  warm  myself  with.  Think  of  what  you 
can  do  for  me,  dear,  princely  friend.  Let  some  one  buy  my  '  Lohen- 
grin,' skin  and  bones  ;  let  some  one  commission  my  '  Siegfried.'  " 

And  SO  he  went  on,  begging  Liszt  to  save  iiim  and 
iiis  wife  from  absolute  want.  He  had  not  even  an 
overcoat.  The  score  of  "  Lohengrin  "  was  eventually 
sold  to  Breitkopf  and  Hiirtel  for  a  few  hundred  thalers, 
but  the  means  of  subsistence  were  provided  for  Wag- 
ner by  Liszt  and  other  friends.  Yet  even  in  this 
lamentable  state  of  affairs  he  could  not  drive  himself 
to  com.pose.  He  could  only  write  his  literary  works. 
In  these  he  embodied  what  has  come  to  be  known  as 
the  Wagnerian  theory  of  the  music  drama,  the  theory 
which  finds  its  only  full  and  satisfying  illustration  in 
the  works  of  this  master,  though  its  elementary  prin- 
cipals were  recognised  and  obeyed  by  earlier  writers. 
He  says  himself  in  "The  Music  of  the  Future,"  "  My 
mental  state  resembled  a  struggle.  I  tried  to  express 
theoretically  that  which  under  the  incongruity  of 
my  artistic  aims  as  contrasted  with  the  tendencies 
of  public  art,  especially  of  the  opera,  I  could  not 
properly  put  forward  by  means  of  direct  artistic 
production." 

The  principal  works  written  by  him  in  this  state  of 
mind  were  "Art  and  Revolution,"  1849,  "  The  Art- 
work of  the  Future,"  "Art  and  Climate,"  "Judaism 
in  Music,"  1850,  "Recollections  of  Spontini,"  1851, 
"  On  the  Performance  of  '  Tannhauser,'  "  and  "Opera 
and  Drama,"  1852.     Of  these  the  last  is  the  most  im- 


Preaching  what  he  Practised        87 

portant  to  the  student  of  Wagner's  theories,  but  at  the 
time  of  publication  it  was  the  article  on  "Judaism  in 
Music"  which  raised  the  largest  disturbance.  The 
criticisms  of  Meyerbeer  contained  in  it  have  been  used 
by  Wagner's  enemies  down  to  the  present  day  as  evi- 
dence that  he  was  an  ungrateful  man.  The  fact  that 
these  censures  were  wholly  for  Meyerbeer,  the  com- 
poser, should,  however,  be  borne  in  mind  ;  for  in 
Wagner  the  artist  always  governed  the  man,  and  the 
timely  aid  given  to  him  by  Meyerbeer  in  the  dark  days 
in  Paris  was  bound  to  take  a  place  in  his  estimation 
second  to  the  popular  composer's  palpable  seekmg  after 
the  applause  of  the  inartistic  masses. 

The  article  on  "Judaism  in  Music"  was  printed  in 
Brendel's  Neue  Zeitschrift  jiir  Musik  for  Sept.  3 
and  6,  1850.  Eleven  masters  at  the  Leipsic  conserva- 
tory, Vv^here  Brendel  lectured  on  the  history  of  music, 
wrote  to  him  asking  him  to  resign  or  reveal  the  name 
of  the  author.  He  refused  to  do  either,  thereby  leav- 
ing the  eleven  irate  masters  in  a  ludicrous  position. 
But  the  hostility  of  the  press  to  Wagner  was  aroused 
by  the  article,  for  his  authorship  was  speedily  sus- 
pected. In  1869  he  issued  a  revised  and  enlarged 
edition  of  this  article  and  then  a  host  of  replies  ap- 
peared. None  of  them,  however,  dealt  candidly  with 
the  artistic  questions.  Most  of  them  rested  with 
accusing  Wagner  of  assailing  rival  composers  because 
they  were  Jews.  The  chief  points  made  in  Wagner's 
article  were  that  the  Jews  were  not  an  artistic  people, 
that  they  could  not  be  so  because  they  were  not  sin- 
cere, because  they  had  no  nation,  no  home,  no 
language,  but  lived  to  please  the  people  of  the  coun- 
try in  which  they  chanced  to  be  and  whose  language 


88  Richard  Wagner 

they  spoke.  Mendelssohn  and  Meyerbeer  were 
quoted  as  examples. 

In  "  Opera  and  Drama  "  Wagner  set  forth  the  prin- 
ciples which,  according  to  him,  should  govern  the 
creation  of  art  work  for  the  stage.  These  principles 
we  shall  have  opportunity  to  examine  in  detail  when 
we  come  to  the  study  of  the  Wagnerian  theories. 
Let  it  suffice  here  to  quote  Muncker's  admirable  sum- 
mary of  the  essay  : 

"Systematically  he  examined  in  what  manner  all 
the  arts,  plastic,  mimic,  phonetic  and  oral,  had  in  the 
antique  tragedy  combined  to  the  highest  mutual  pur- 
poses, and  how  thereafter,  released  from  this  close 
and  life-like  union,  the  single  arts  had  in  their  indi- 
vidual development  either  stagnated  or  degenerated. 
He  refused  to  acknowledge  the  objections  that  only 
the  mild  atmosphere  of  Greece  had  been  able  to  ripen 
the  artistic  power  of  intuition  and  formation,  out  of 
which  the  Attic  tragedy  had  grown.  Only  the  his- 
torical man,  the  man  independent  of  nature,  has 
awakened  art  to  life  ;  and  only  he,  noble  and  strong, 
who  through  the  highest  power  of  love  has  attained 
true  liberty,  can  newly  create  the  vanished  dramatic 
work  of  art,  just  as  he  alone,  his  life  and  death,  is  its 
subject  ;  for  this  reason  there  can  be  only  one  princi- 
pal consideration  for  art,  and  that  is  the  true  nature  of 
the  human  race.  Strictly  Wagner  weighed  the  un- 
successful attempts  of  the  last  century  externally  to 
combine  the  sister  arts  (without  any  of  them  giv- 
ing up  their  egotistic  purposes)  in  the  oratorio  and 
particularly  in  the  opera,  the  trysting  place  of  their 
most  selfish  endeavours.  He  contrasted  with  these 
inorganic  species  the  loving  union  of  the  single  arts  in 


Preaching  what  he  Practised        89 

the  work  of  art  of  the  future,  in  the  true  drama,  that, 
like  the  Attic  tragedy,  employed  the  same  artistic 
means,  only  on  a  greater  scale  and  with  a  higher  tech- 
nical perfection,  in  the  same  manner  and  for  the  same 
purposes.  Like  the  Attic  tragedy,  it  is  to  be  repre- 
sented by  the  people,  or  rather  the  totality  of  different 
artists  is  to  represent  it  for  the  people  ;  just,  however, 
as  the  single  arts  can  here  for  the  first  time  freely  and 
naturally  unfold  their  innermost  nature,  so  the  in- 
dividuality of  the  single  artist  can,  just  in  that  com- 
munity with  the  whole,  significantly  develop  itself." 

In  this  essay  he  ruthlessly  exposed  the  musical  shal- 
lowness of  Rossini  and  Meyerbeer.  He  saw  at  the 
time  that  his  criticism  of  the  latter  would  expose  him 
to  the  charge  of  ingratitude,  but  the  artist  in  him  pre- 
vailed, and  he  spoke  his  mind  freely.  It  should  be 
added  that  he  praised  certain  passages  in  Meyerbeer's 
works,  especially  the  great  duet  in  the  fourth  act  of 
"  Les  Huguenots." 

In  the  early  years  of  his  exile  he  undertook  once 
more  the  task  of  writing  an  opera  for  Paris.  He  went 
so  far  as  to  make  a  prose  sketch  of  a  libretto  entitled 
"Wieland  the  Smith,"  In  after  years  he  offered  the 
book  to  Liszt,  saying  that  it  reminded  him  of  a  period 
of  pain.  The  labour  of  writing  this  work  was  dis- 
tasteful td  him,  and  he  began  it  only  at  the  earnest 
solicitation  of  his  wife  and  Liszt.  The  sketch,  which 
is  an  elaborated  scenario,  is  included  in  Mr.  Ellis's 
translation  of  the  prose  works. 

The  only  musical  work  which  Wagner  did  in  the 
early  years  at  Zurich  was  the  conducting  of  some 
orchestral  concerts,  and  the  superintending  of  per- 
formances at  the  city  theatre.     It  was  at  this  time 


90  Richard  Wagner 

that  Wagner's  acquaintance  with  the  afterward  fa- 
mous pianist  and  conductor,  Hans  von  Biilow,  began. 
Von  Bulow  had  abandoned  the  career  planned  for  him 
by  his  father  and  gone  to  Zurich  literally  to  throw 
himself  at  the  feet  of  Wagner.  The  master  secured 
him  the  post  of  assistant  conductor  at  the  opera, 
where  he  supported  his  protege  against  the  intriguing 
of  the  singers  and  the  orchestra.  After  six  months  of 
experience  there  Von  Biilow  was  sent  with  a  letter 
of  introduction  from  Wagner  to  Liszt,  whose  pupil 
he  became,  and  whose  daughter  Cosima  he  married. 
Little  did  either  he  or  Wagner  think  at  the  time  that 
he  would  be  conductor  of  Wagner's  greatest  works, 
and  that  his  wife  would  become  the  second  spouse  of 
the  famous  composer. 

The  year  1850  was  made  a  memorable  one  in  Wag- 
ner's life  by  the  first  performance  of  "Lohengrin," 
which  had  slept  in  silence  for  three  years.  In  the 
"Communication  to  My  Friends  "Wagner  wrote  of 
the  movement  toward  the  production  thus  : 

"  At  the  end  of  my  latest  stay  in  Paris,  as  I  lay  ill  and  wretched, 
gazing  brooding  into  space,  my  eye  fell  on  the  score  of  my  already 
almost  quite  forgotten  '  Lohengrin.'  It  filled  me  with  a  sudden  grief  to 
think  that  these  notes  should  never  ring  from  off  the  death-wan  paper. 
Two  words  1  wrote  to  Liszt.  His  answer  was  none  other  than  an 
announcement  of  preparations  the  most  sumptuous  —  fo^the  modest 
means  of  Weimar  —  for  '  Lohengrin's'  production." 

Even  at  this  distance  the  words  of  that  letter  of 
April  21,  i8so,  are  pathetic  : 

"  Dear  Friend  :  1  have  just  been  looking  through  the  score  of  my 
'  Lohengrin.'  I  very  seldom  read  my  own  works.  An  immense  de- 
sire has  sprung  up  in  me  to  have  this  work  performed.  I  address  this 
wish  to  your  heart  :  Perform  my  '  Lohengrin  '  !     You  are  the  only  one 


Preaching  what  he  Practised        91 

to  whom  I  could  address  this  prayer  ;  to  none  hut  you  should  I  entrust 
the  creation  of  this  opera  ;  to  you  I  give  it  with  perfect  and  joyous 
confidence." 

How  faithfully  Liszt  fulfilled  the  trust  imposed  upon 
him  may  be  seen  from  one  of  his  letters  to  Wagner 
in  the  course  of  the  preparations  for  the  opera's 
production. 

"Your  'Lohengrin'  will  be  given  under  exceptional  conditions, 
which  are  most  favourable  to  its  success.  The  management  for  this 
occasion  spends  about  2,000  thalers,  a  thing  that  has  not  been  done  in 
Weimar  within  the  memory  of  man.  The  press  will  not  be  forgotten, 
and  suitable  and  seriously  conceived  articles  will  appear  successively  in 
several  papers.  All  the  personnel  will  be  put  on  its  mettle.  The 
number  of  violins  will  be  slightly  increased  (from  16  to  18)  and  a  bass 
clarinet  has  been  purchased.  Nothing  essential  will  be  wanting  in  the 
musical  material  or  design.  1  undertake  all  the  rehearsals  with  piano- 
forte, chorus,  strings  and  orchestra.  Genast  will  follow  your  indica- 
tions for  the  mise-en-scene  with  zeal  and  energy.  It  is  understood  that 
we  shall  not  cut  a  note,  not  an  iota,  of  your  work,  and  that  we  shall 
give  it  in  its  absolute  beauty,  as  far  as  is  in  our  power." 

The  date  chosen  for  the  production  was  Aug.  28, 
the  birthday  of  Goethe,  when  a  large  number  of  vis- 
itors would  be  in  Weimar  to  attend  the  unveiling  of  a 
monument  to  Herder.  Wagner  was  anxious  to  be 
present  at  the  performance,  but  the  risk  of  arrest,  if 
he  set  foot  on  German  soil,  prevented  him  from  going. 
Liszt  was  profoundly  moved  by  the  work,  but  he  was 
not  satisfied  with  the  performance  nor  the  reception 
by  the  public.  The  singers  did  not  know  how  to 
deliver  Wagner's  music,  and  the  general  public  found 
this,  the  most  popular  of  all  Wagner's  creations,  quite 
beyond  its  comprehension.  The  performance  lasted 
five  hours,  owing  to  the  singers'  treating  all  the  arioso 
passages  as  recitatives,  and  Wagner  accordingly  wrote 


92  Richard  Wagner 

to  Liszt  explaining  how  tliis  music  should  be  sung. 
The  whole  series  of  letters  on  the  manner  of  perform- 
ing "  Lohengrin  "  is  full  of  instruction  as  to  Wagner's 
dramatic  ideas  and  the  proper  method  of  singing  his 
music.  Liszt  and  Genast,  the  stage  manager,  how- 
ever, saw  no  way  out  of  the  difficulty  except  by  mak- 
ing cuts,  and  these  were  accordingly  made,  but  under 
protest  from  the  composer,  who  authorised  only  one 
in  the  latter  part  of  Lohengrin's  narrative. 

The  production  of  the  most  popular  of  all  operas 
now  before  the  public  was  accomplished  in  the  ab- 
sence of  its  composer.  Indeed,  it  was  not  until  May 
15,  1 86 1,  in  Vienna,  that  poor  Wagner  heard  this 
beautiful  and  touching  work.  While  it  was  in  course 
of  preparation  at  Weimar  he  was  labouring  at  Zurich, 
as  we  have  seen,  and  was  fighting  ill-health,  too. 
His  low  spirits  brought  on  an  attack  of  dyspepsia,  and 
with  this  came  another  lifelong  enemy,  erysipelas. 
The  cheerfulness  and  devotion  of  the  unhappy  Minna 
helped  him  through  this  trying  period,  and  he  further 
solaced  himself  by  long  walks  into  the  forest,  accom- 
panied by  his  dog  Peps.  He  declaimed  aloud  against 
the  density  of  the  public  and  the  machine-made  music 
of  some  of  his  contemporaries,  and  when  Peps  an- 
swered his  master's  voice  with  a  lively  bark,  Wagner 
would  pat  his  head  and  say,  "Thou  hast  more  sense, 
Peps,  than  some  of  these  contrapuntists."  Liszt  con- 
tinued to  push  the  fortunes  of  "Tannhiiuser"  and 
"  Lohengrin  "  at  Weimar,  and  although  it  was  three 
years  before  the  latter  was  performed  elsewhere,  it 
became  the  fashion  to  visit  Weimar  to  hear  it. 

Wagner  closed  the  literary  work  of  this  period  by 
writing  the  "Communication  to  My  Friends,"  which, 


Preaching  what  he  Practised        93 

with  the  autobiography,  forms  the  most  satisfactory 
material  for  the  study  of  his  early  career.  This 
communication  is  rather  a  story  of  his  artistic  de- 
velopment than  of  the  incidents  of  his  life,  but  it  is  a 
fascinating  piece  of  self-examination,  and  throws  more 
light  than  anything  else  upon  the  motives  which  led 
to  the  composition  of  the  most  famous  of  Wagner's 
dramas. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  he  entered  upon  the  task  of 
writing  his  long-cherished  "Death  of  Siegfried," 
which  he  had  shaped  into  a  drama  in  three  acts  and  a 
prologue  in  the  autumn  of  1848.  It  was  in  June, 
1849,  that  he  wrote  to  Liszt  that  he  would  have  the 
drama  completed  in  half  a  year.  In  the  spring  of  185 1 
Liszt  learned  that  there  was  to  be  a  prefatory  drama 
called  "Young  Siegfried,"  and  on  June  29  Wagner 
wrote  to  him  that  the  poem  was  finished.  On  Nov. 
20  of  the  same  year  Wagner  wrote  a  long  letter,  in 
which  he  set  forth  the  development  of  the  entire  plan. 
He  had  found  that  his  story  was  too  long  and  com- 
plex to  tell  in  two  dramas,  and  that  he  would  have  to 
make  three,  with  a  prologue. 

Thus  he  had  finally  developed  the  plan  of  what  was 
to  be  his  most  imposing,  if  not  his  greatest,  work,  a 
work  rivalling  in  the  immensity  of  its  conception  and 
its  dramatic  seriousness  the  ancient  trilogies  of  the 
Greeks.  It  was  altogether  fitting  that  this  magnum 
opus  should  have  acquired  its  full  and  definite  shape 
in  his  mind  at  a  time  when  his  invention  was  re- 
freshed by  abstinence  from  musical  production,  and 
when  the  appetite  for  composition  was  springing  up 
anew.  Early  in  1853  the  poem  in  its  new  form  was 
completed,  and  on  Feb.  1 1  he  sent  a  copy  to  Liszt. 


94  Richard  Wagner 

The  latter  wrote:  "You  are  truly  a  wonderful  man, 
and  your  'Nibelung'  poem  is  surely  the  most  incred- 
ible thing  which  you  have  ever  done."  In  a  letter 
v/ritten  in  1871,  to  Arrigo  Boito,  the  famous  Italian 
composer  and  librettist,  he  said:  "During  a  sleepless 
night  at  an  inn  at  Spezzia  the  music  to  '  Das  Rhein- 
gold '  occurred  to  me.  Straightway  1  turned  home- 
ward and  set  to  work."  He  finished  the  full  score  of 
"Das  Rheingold  "  in  May,  1854,  and  in  the  following 
month  he  began  that  of  "Die  Walkure."  The  score 
of  this  work  was  finished  in  1856,  and  part  of  "Sieg- 
fried "  was  written  in  the  next  year. 

The  sleepless  night  at  the  Spezzia  inn  occurred  in 
the  course  of  a  journey  into  Italy  made  in  1853.  It 
was  a  journey  made  in  the  vain  hope  of  cheering  the 
drooping  spirits  of  Wagner,  who  was  always  fond  of 
travel.  His  life  in  Zurich  had  its  pleasant  side.  He 
had  made  friends,  some  of  whom,  notably  Wille,  a 
former  journalist  of  Hamburg,  and  his  wife,  a  clever 
novelist,  understood  and  adored  him.  But  he  suffered 
from  dyspepsia,  insomnia,  and  erysipelas,  the  latter 
returning  with  wearing  persistency;  and  he  writhed 
under  the  restraints  of  an  exile  which  for  artistic  rea- 
sons he  could  not  but  desire  to  terminate.  In  some 
of  the  cities  of  Germany  his  works  were  performed 
without  understanding  and  in  a  way  to  make  him 
shiver  with  anguish,  yet  he  was  helpless.  On  all 
sides  he  was  critically  assailed  for  faults  that  were  not 
his,  and  would  instantly  have  disappeared  if  his  operas 
had  been  properly  interpreted.  In  Berlin,  where  he 
might  have  reaped  at  least  a  decent  pecuniary  profit 
from  performances,  jealousy,  intrigue,  and  Philistin- 
ism prevented  his  works  from  reaching  the  stage. 


Preaching  what  he  Practised        95 

And  the  demon  poverty  pursued  him  to  the  verge 
of  madness.  He  suffered  from  the  agonising  fear 
that  at  length  he  would  be  forced  to  abandon  all  the 
splendid  imaginations  that  were  burning  within  him 
and  divert  his  whole  life  into  the  sordid  channels  of 
bread-and-butter  drudgery.  He  cried  to  Liszt  and 
other  friends  to  save  him.  For  this  he  has  been  called 
a  beggar;  but  if  we  obey  Charles  Reade's  injunction, 
"  Put  yourself  in  his  place,"  the  thing  wears  a  different 
aspect.  Wagner  was  profoundly  convinced  of  the 
greatness  that  was  within  him,  and  it  maddened  him 
to  think  that  he  might  have  to  stifle  it.  He  wrote  to 
Liszt:  "  1  am  in  a  miserable  condition,  and  have  great 
difficulty  in  persuading  myself  that  it  must  go  on  like 
this,  and  that  it  would  not  really  be  more  moral  to 
put  an  end  to  this  disgraceful  kind  of  life." 

In  these  circumstances,  it  was  perhaps  the  best 
thing  that  could  have  happened  to  him  that  in  that 
sleepless  night  at  Spezzia  he  was  haunted  by  the 
thought  that  the  music  of  "  Rheingold  "  must  be 
written,  and  went  home  to  chain  himself  again  to  the 
pathetic  task  of  heaping  one  silent  score  upon  an- 
other. The  time  came  when  he  did  not  believe  that 
he  would  live  to  finish  the  mighty  tetralogy  which  is 
now  the  glory  of  the  lyric  stage.  But  even  in  the  face 
of  despair  he  could  not  repress  the  impulses  within 
him,  and  back  to  Zurich  he  went,  and  the  wonderful 
measures  of  the  prologue  of  the  "  Nibelung  "  drama 
sprang  into  being.  Even  as  he  had  out  of  despair 
forged  the  links  of  his  first  success,  "  Rienzi,"  so  again 
the  fires  of  anguish  lit  the  forges  of  the  "  Schwarzal- 
ben  "  and  the  "  Wonniges  Kind." 


CHAPTER  IX 

A  STRANGER  IN  A  STRANGE  LAND 

"  This  red  republican  of  music  is  to  preside  over  the  Old  Philharmonic 
of  London,  the  most  classical,  orthodox,  and  exclusive  society  on  this 
globe."— Letter  of  Ferdinand  Praeger  to  the  New  York  Musical 
Gazette. 

The  musical  activities  of  this  period  were  about  to  be 
interrupted  by  a  voyage  so  strange  that  we  can  hardly 
conceive  it  as  possible.  That  Richard  Wagner,  the 
reformer,  should  go  to  England  to  conduct  the  then 
most  stagnant  musical  organisation  in  the  world,  the 
London  Philharmonic,  before  the  most  conservative 
musical  public  on  earth,  seems  little  short  of  humor- 
ous. Yet  this  thing  actually  happened.  And  the 
musicians  of  the  London  orchestra,  to  their  credit, 
recognised  the  greatness  of  their  new  conductor  and 
played  as  they  had  never  played  before.  But  this  is 
anticipating.  In  Zurich  he  was  already  known  as  a 
conductor  before  he  had  set  foot  on  Swiss  soil.  So  it 
is  natural  that  the  musical  authorities  of  the  place 
should  have  sought  his  services  as  soon  as  he  was 
settled.  We  have  already  noted  that  he  conducted 
some  concerts  and  supervised  the  operatic  perform- 
ances at  the  theatre  where  Von  Bulow  and  Carl  Ritter 
conducted.     But  the  good  Swiss  were  not  satisfied 

96 


A  Stranger  in  a  Strange  Land      97 

with  this.  They  desired  the  excitement  of  the  pro- 
duction of  one  of  Wagner's  works  under  his  own 
direction.  Accordingly,  in  May,  1852,  "The  Flying 
Dutchman  "  was  given,  but  because  the  singers  treated 
the  work  as  an  old-fashioned  opera,  it  did  not  make  a 
deep  impression.  Nevertheless,  in  February,  1855, 
"Tannhauser"  was  produced  in  Zurich.  It  was  at 
this  period,  too,  that  Wagner  took  up  the  old  "  Faust  " 
overture  and  revised  it,  making  changes  which  drew 
expressions  of  delight  from  Liszt. 

At  this  time  the  warfare  of  two  musical  societies  in 
London  was  to  have  an  unexpected  influence  on  the 
movements  of  Wagner.  The  London  Philharmonic 
Society  had  suffered  a  split,  caused  by  dissensions 
>vhich  need  not  be  discussed  here,  and  a  New  Phil- 
harmonic had  been  formed.  The  insurgent  forces 
proceeded  to  formulate  a  plan  of  campaign  which 
threatened  disaster  to  the  older  army.  As  a  master 
stroke,  they  secured  as  conductor  no  less  a  personage 
than  Hector  Berlioz,  the  famous  French  composer.  It 
now  became  necessary  for  the  older  body  to  deal  a 
counterblow.  But  where  to  turn  for  a  conductor 
whose  name  would  excite  public  interest  in  such  a 
manner  as  that  of  Berlioz  they  knew  not.  In  the 
midst  of  their  confusion  arose  Ferdinand  Praeger,  the 
London  friend  and  admirer  of  Wagner,  of  whom  he 
had  first  heard  through  August  Roeckel.  Praeger 
knew  that  there  would  be  opposition  to  Wagner,  but 
he  knew,  too,  that  the  name  of  the  composer  of  the 
music  of  the  future  would  arouse  public  curiosity  and 
that  audiences  could  be  got  for  his  concerts.  And 
audiences  were  what  the  staid  and  languishing  Old 
Philharmonic  most  needed.     On  the  other  hand,  there 


98  Richard  Wagner 

was  something  to  be  done  in  London  in  the  way  of 
correcting  false  impressions  of  Wagner's  works.  As 
Liszt  wrote  to  him  on  learning  that  he  was  to  make 
the  visit: 

"The  London  Philharmonic  comes  in  very  aptly,  and  I  am  de- 
lighted. As  lately  as  six  months  ago  people  used  to  shake  their  heads, 
and  some  of  them  even  hissed,  at  the  performance  of  the  '  Tann- 
hauser '  overture,  conducted  by  Costa.  Klindworth  and  Remeny 
were  almost  the  only  ones  who  had  the  courage  to  applaud  and  to 
beard  the  Philistines  who  had  made  their  nests  of  old  in  the  Philhar- 
monic. Well,  it  will  now  assume  a  different  tone,  and  you  will  re- 
vivify old  England  with  the  Old  Philharmonic." 

Liszt  as  usual  wrote  in  an  encouraging  strain,  but  it 
is  likely  that  he  really  believed  that  Wagner  would 
profit  by  some  personal  contact  with  the  public.  For 
the  history  of  this  incident  we  must  turn  to  the  pages 
of  Praeger,  who  acted  as  Wagner's  private  agent  in 
making  the  engagement,  and  who  first  suggested  it 
to  Prosper  Sainton,  the  eminent  violinist  and  a  director 
of  the  Philharmonic.  It  was  an  ill-advised  visit,  but 
it  was  made  by  Wagner  chiefly  because  he  hoped 
through  this  introduction  to  the  English  public  to 
bring  out  his  operas  in  London.  On  Jan.  21,  1855, 
he  wrote  to  Fischer  in  Dresden: 

"  At  the  end  of  February  I  go  for  two  months  to  London,  to  con- 
duct the  concerts  of  the  Philharmonic  Society,  for  which  they  ex- 
pressly sent  one  of  their  directors  here  to  persuade  me.  As  a  rule, 
that  kind  of  thing  does  not  suit  me;  and  as  I  am  not  to  get  much  pay 
for  it,  1  would  scarcely  have  consented,  had  1  not  therein  seen  a  chance 
of  next  year  bringing  together  in  London — under  the  protection  of  the 
Court — a  first-rate  German  opera  company,  with  which  I  could  give 
my  operas,  and  at  last  my  '  Lohengrin.'  " 

Mr.  Anderson,  conductor  of  the  Queen's  private  band. 


A  Stranger  in  a  Strange  Land      99 

and  an  acting  director  of  the  Philharmonic,  was  sent 
to  Zurich  to  negotiate  with  Wagner.  Some  corre- 
spondence had  already  taken  place,  and  the  composer 
had  demanded  conditions  which  were  waived  after 
conversation  with  Mr.  Anderson.  The  question  of 
terms  was  speedily  disposed  of,  the  irresponsible 
Wagner  saying  that  he  was  too  busy  to  think  about 
them.  After  Mr.  Anderson  had  returned  to  London 
Wagner  wrote  to  Praeger  and  suggested  giving  a  con- 
cert of  his  Qvm  works,  but  this  alarmed  the  conserv- 
ative Philharmonic  people,  and  a  compromise  was 
effected  by  the  promise  of  the  performance  of  selec- 
tions. It  was  arranged  that  the  composer  should  stay 
at  Praeger's  house,  31  Milton  Street,  till  a  quiet  and 
secluded  lodging,  where  he  could  go  on  with  the  scor- 
ing of  the  trilogy,  could  be  found  for  him.  He  arrived 
in  London  on  Sunday,  March  5,  1855.  The  lodging 
was  found  at  22  Portland  Terrace,  Regent's  Park. 
Much  of  the  work  of  scoring  the  "Nibelung"  dramas 
was  done  at  this  place. 

The  first  meeting  between  Wagner  and  Mr.  Ander- 
son in  London  was  not  encouraging.  The  Philhar- 
monic director  suggested  the  performance  of  a  prize 
symphony  by  Lachner,  whereupon  Wagner  rose  ex- 
citedly from  his  chair  and  exclaimed  :  "  Have  I,  there- 
fore, left  my  quiet  seclusion  in  Switzerland  to  cross 
the  sea  to  conduct  a  prize  symphony  by  Lachner  ? 
No,  never  !  If  that  be  a  condition  of  the  bargain  I  at 
once  reject  it,  and  will  return."  * 

The  matter  was  smoothed  over,  but  it  was  only  one 
of  several  similar  outbreaks  on  the  part  of  the  impatient 
artist.  Fortunately,  as  Praeger  notes,  Wagner  had  a 
*  Praeger,  "  Wagner  as  I  Knew  Him,"  p.  231. 


loo  Richard  Wagner 

keen  sense  of  humour,  and  when  there  was  a  ludicrous 
aspect  in  the  scenes  of  misunderstanding  it  sufficed 
to  put  him  in  a  pleasant  mood  once  more. 

Wagner  made  only  one  visit  of  ceremony  in  London, 
and  that  was  a  call  on  Sir  Michael  Costa.  He  flatly 
refused  to  call  on  the  musical  critics  of  the  London 
papers,  and  Praeger  says  that  this  was  to  his  injury. 
This  state  of  affairs  is  not  easy  to  understand  in  the 
United  States,  where  visits  to  critics  are  looked  upon 
with  suspicion,  and  are  discouraged  by  the  critics 
themselves.  Praeger  records  that  Mr.  Davison,  the 
editor  of  The  Musical  World,  then  an  influential  paper, 
declared  that  as  long  as  he  held  the  sceptre  of  musical 
criticism,  Wagner  should  not  acquire  any  hold  in  Lon- 
don. In  these  circumstances  it  is  not  at  all  astonish- 
ing that  the  new  conductor  received  not  a  little  censure. 
It  is  only  right  to  mention,  however,  that  some  of  the 
London  papers  viewed  his  work  without  prejudice 
and  praised  what  appeared  to  them  to  be  its  excel- 
lences. That  Wagner  was  an  uncommonly  fine  con- 
ductor cannot  be  doubted,  and  the  musicians  of  the 
Philharmonic,  as  soon  as  they  had  recovered  from  the 
surprise  caused  by  Wagner's  spirited  and  truthful 
readings  of  the  works  under  rehearsal  and  his  em- 
phatic insistence  on  the  correct  treatment  of  every 
passage,  together  with  vigour  of  style,  applauded  him 
and  obeyed  him  with  delight. 

The  first  concert  took  place  on  March  12.  The  pro- 
gramme, like  that  of  all  the  other  concerts,  was  ab- 
surdly long,  and  this  was  one  of  the  things  against 
which  Wagner  vainly  fought.  The  list  comprised  a 
symphony  by  Haydn,  an  operatic  trio,  a  Spohr  violin 
concerto,  the  Weber  aria,  "  Ocean,  thou  mighty  mon- 


A  Stranger  in  a  Strange  Land     loi 

ster,"  Mendelssohn's  "  Fingal's  Cave,"  overture,  Bee- 
thoven's "Eroica"  symphony,  a  duet  by  Marschner, 
and  the  overture  to  "Die  Zauberflote."  Wagner 
amazed  the  Londoners  by  giving  readings  of  the  orches- 
tral v^orks  instead  of  permitting  the  orchestra  to  glide 
through  them  in  the  conventional  slovenly  v/ay.  He 
even  restored  the  true  tempi  in  the  "  Eroica,"  in  which 
London  conductors  had  been  playing  the  first  move- 
ment slowly  and  the  funeral  march  quickly.  He  as- 
tonished the  great  body  of  Mendelssohnians,  which 
infested  London  then  as  it  has  ever  since,  by  reading 
the  overture  with  beautiful  colour  and  intelligence. 
Several  of  the  papers  abused  him  roundly,  but  The 
Morning  Post  discovered  in  him  the  ideal  conductor. 
At  the  second  concert  on  March  26,  Wagner  con- 
ducted the  overture  to  "Der  Freischutz,"  Beethoven's 
ninth  symphony,  and  the  prelude  to  "Lohengrin." 
The  Weber  overture  had  to  be  repeated,  which  goes 
to  show  that  the  audience  was  not  insensible  to  Wag- 
ner's enthusiastic  sympathy  with  the  music  of  his 
great  predecessor.  The  dates  of  the  other  concerts 
conducted  by  Wagner  were  April  16  and  30,  May  14 
and  28,  and  June  11  and  25.  In  addition  to  the  Bee- 
thoven symphonies  already  mentioned  he  directed  the 
fourth,  fifth,  sixth,  seventh  and  eighth  ;  also  the 
"Leonora"  overture.  No.  3,  and  the  violin  concerto, 
Mozart's  symphonies  in  B  flat  and  C,  Mendelssohn's 
Scotch  and  Italian  symphonies,  Spohr's  C  minor  sym- 
phony, Cipriani  Potter's  symphony  in  G  minor,  and 
some  minor  works.  The  overture  to  "Tannhauser" 
was  produced  at  the  fifth  concert,  and  was  received 
with  acclamations  by  the  audience  and  derision  by 
the  critics.     It  was  repeated  at  the  seventh  concert  by 


I02  Richard  Waener 


ti' 


royal  command.  The  Queen  and  the  Prince  Consort 
attended  this  concert  and  had  Wagner  before  them  in 
the  salon.  There  the  Prince  Consort  suggested  the 
desirability  of  translating  some  of  Wagner's  operas 
into  Italian  that  they  might  be  presented  in  London, 
and  the  Queen  said,  "  I  am  most  happy  to  make  your 
acquaintance.     Your  composition  has  charmed  me." 

Wagner  left  London  the  day  after  his  last  concert, 
and  he  was  heartily  glad  to  shake  the  dust  of  the  Brit- 
ish capital  off  his  feet.  Musical  criticism  in  London 
was  stilted,  timorous,  afraid  of  new  thoughts,  unable 
to  grasp  any  departure  from  the  conventionalities  with 
which  it  was  acquainted,  and  desperately  opposed  to 
musical  progress  along  lines  not  laid  down  by  Men- 
delssohn and  Handel.  It  was  to  be  expected  that  the 
commentors  would  oppose  the  entire  Wagner  system, 
but  the  vituperative  strain  in  the  criticisms  suggests 
the  probability  that  the  writers  felt  and  writhed  under 
the  power  of  the  man.  It  must  be  understood  that 
similar  criticism  was  written  in  Germany,  and  that  the 
"  music  of  the  future,"  as  it  was  derisively  called,  was 
not  peacefully  permitted  to  become  the  music  of  the 
day.  The  younger  generation  of  opera-goers  cannot 
realise  the  state  of  mind  into  which  their  forerunners 
were  thrown  when  they  were  asked  to  accept  the 
opera  as  a  play,  and  not  as  a  mere  string  of  pretty 
vocal  pieces,  loosely  connected  by  the  pretence  of  a 
plot.  In  London,  where  the  opera  was  the  amuse- 
ment of  fashionable  society,  the  music  of  Wagner  was 
bound  at  fust  to  meet  with  opposition.  For  fashion- 
able society  always  has  been  and  still  is  opposed  to 
all  that  is  dignified,  serious,  or  uplifting  in  life  or  art. 

Aside  from  some  scoring  of  the  Nibelung  dramas, 


A  Stranger  in  a  Strange  Land     103 

Wagner  did  little  productive  work  in  the  uncongenial 
atmosphere  of  London.  Praeger  introduced  to  him 
Karl  Klindworth,  who  was  engaged  to  make  piano 
scores  of  the  first  dramas  of  the  trilogy.  This  was, 
perhaps,  the  most  serious  musical  achievement  of  the 
London  visit.  It  should  be  said,  however,  that  the 
friends  whom  Wagner  found  in  London  were  the  nu- 
cleus of  a  substantial  support  for  him  in  that  capital, 
and  when  the  movement  to  build  the  Bayreuth  Theatre 
took  shape,  the  English  Wagnerites  were  among  the 
sturdiest  upholders  of  the  plan. 

Wagner  went  home  to  Zurich  by  way  of  Paris,  and 
soon  after  his  arrival  took  his  wife  for  a  short  visit  to 
Seelisberg,  near  the  Alps.  Just  before  starting  his 
dog  Peps  died,  and  the  letter  in  which  he  communi- 
cates this  fact  to  Praeger  is  so  full  of  warm  feeling 
that  it  is  a  revelation  of  the  richness  of  the  heart  of 
this  singular  and  erratic  being.     He  said  in  part  : 

"  The  day  of  our  departure  for  Seelisberg  was  already  fixed,  where, 
as  I  wrote  to  you,  I  was  going  with  my  wife,  my  dog  and  bird.* 
Suddenly  dangerous  symptoms  showed  themselves  in  Peps,  in  conse- 
quence of  which  we  put  off  our  journey  for  two  days  so  as  to  nurse 
the  poor  dying  dog.  Up  to  the  last  moment  Peps  showed  me  a  love 
so  touching  as  to  be  almost  heartrending  ;  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  me 
and  though  1  chanced  to  move  but  a  few  steps  from  him,  continued 
to  follow  me  with  his  eyes.  He  died  in  my  arms  on  the  night  of  the 
ninth  or  tenth  of  this  month,  passing  away  without  a  sound,  quietly 
and  peacefully.  On  the  morrow,  midday,  we  buried  him  in  the  gar- 
den beside  the  house,  i  cried  incessantly,  and  since  then  have  felt 
bitter  pain  and  sorrow  for  the  dear  friend  of  the  past  thirteen  years 
whoever  worked  and  walked  with  me.  It  has  clearly  taught  me  that 
the  world  exists  only  in  our  hearts  and  conception." 

*  A  parrot  which  he  had  humorously  taught  to  say  frequently  : 
"  Richard  Wagner,  you  are  a  great  man." 


I04  Richard  Wagner 

At  this  period  he  received  an  offer  to  visit  America. 
He  mentions  it  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Praeger  and  also 
in  other  correspondence,  especially  that  with  Liszt. 
He  had  been  told  while  in  London  that  he  would 
receive  this  invitation,  and  he  wrote  to  Liszt  :  "While 
here  I  chew  a  beggar's  crust,  I  hear  from  Boston 
that  '  Wagner  nights '  are  given  there.  Everyone 
persuades  me  to  come  over  ;  they  are  occupying  them- 
selves with  me  with  increasing  interest  ;  I  might 
make  much  money  there  by  concert  performances, 
etc.  '  Make  much  money  ! '  Heavens  !  I  don't  want 
to  make  money  if  I  can  go  the  way  shown  me  by  my 
longing."  Indeed  Wagner  thought  of  money  only  as 
the  means  which  would  enable  him  to  carry  out  his 
plans  for  the  production  of  the  Nibelung  dramas.  He 
was  sorely  tempted  for  a  time  by  the  possibility  of 
earning  enough  in  the  United  States  to  do  as  he 
pleased,  but  he  finally  wrote  to  Liszt,  with  more  than 
usual  penetration,  that  he  was  not  the  kind  of  man  to 
be  successful  with  a  money-making  speculation,  and 
that  he  had  decided  not  to  be  turned  aside  from  his 
artistic  purposes.  And  thus  ended  the  attempt  to 
induce  Wagner  to  visit  a  country,  which  in  its  state 
at  that  time  would  have  been  quite  as  uncongenial  to 
him  as  London. 


CHAPTER  X 

A    SECOND    END    IN    PARIS 

"  People  treat  this  unfortunate  Wagner  as  a  scamp,  an  impostor,  an 
idiot." — Hector  Berlioz 

The  composer  now  set  to  work  right  gladly  on  his 
"  Walkure."  He  was  eager  to  finish  it  and  begin  the 
writing  of  what  was  still  called  "Jung  Siegfried," 
For  a  time  he  was  impeded  by  the  illness  of  his  wife 
and  afterwards  his  own,  but  on  October  3,  1855,  he 
was  able  to  send  to  Liszt  the  first  two  acts  of  "Die 
Walkure."  Liszt  and  his  beloved  Countess  Wittgen- 
stein went  over  them  together  and  both  wrote  to 
Wagner  of  the  marvellous  effect  which  this  music 
made  upon  them.  The  last  act  was  finished  in 
April,  1856,  and  was  also  despatched  to  Liszt,  in 
October  of  this  year  Liszt,  the  Countess  Wittgenstein, 
and  her  daughter  went  to  Zurich  to  visit  Wagner. 
Of  course  the  score  of  "Die  Walkure"  occupied  their 
attention,  and  Liszt,  Wagner,  and  the  wife  of  Kapell- 
meister Heim  gave  a  rehearsal  of  the  work  at  the  Hotel 
Bauer  before  a  number  of  personal  friends.  The  re- 
hearsal moved  the  hearers  greatly  and,  as  Mr.  Finck 
notes,  they  "would  have  been  no  doubt  greatly  sur- 
prised had  any  one  foretold  that  twenty  years  would 
elapse  before  this  drama  would  have  its  first  adequate 
performance." 

105 


io6  Richard  Wagner 

Together,  too,  Liszt  and  Wagner  gave  an  orchestral 
concert  at  St.  Gall,  on  November  3,  1856,  when  Wag- 
ner conducted  the  "Eroica"  symphony  and  Liszt  his 
"  Orphee "  and  "  Les  Preludes."  But  perhaps  the 
greatest  concert  of  the  Zurich  series  was  that  given  by 
Wagner  in  May,  1853,  when  he  assembled  an  orchestra 
of  72  men  from  different  parts  of  Germany,  and  gave 
selections  from  "Lohengrin"  as  they  were  never 
given  before  and  have  probably  not  often  been  given 
since.  Of  his  visit  Liszt  wrote  in  several  of  his 
numerous  letters.  He  said  to  his  friend  Dr.  Adolf 
Stern,  of  Dresden,  where  the  name  of  Wagner  was 
certainly  familiar. 

"  In  spite  of  my  illness  I  am  spending  glorious  days  with  Wagner, 
and  am  satiating  myself  with  his  '  Nibelungen  '  world,  of  which  our 
business  musicians  and  chaff-threshing  critics  have  as  yet  no  suspicion. 
It  is  to  be  hoped  that  this  tremendous  work  may  succeed  in  being  per- 
formed in  the  year  1859,  and  I,  on  my  side,  will  not  neglect  anything 
to  forward  this  performance  as  soon  as  possible — a  performance  which 
certainly  implies  many  difficulties  and  exertions.  Wagner  requires  for 
this  purpose  a  special  theatre  built  for  himself,  and  a  not  ordinary 
acting  and  orchestral  staff.  It  goes  without  saying  that  the  work 
can  only  appear  before  the  world  under  his  own  conducting ;  and  if, 
as  is  much  to  be  wished,  this  should  take  place  in  Germany,  his  par- 
don must  be  obtained  before  everything." 

These  remarks  of  Liszt  admirably  sum  up  the  situa- 
tion in  regard  to  the  "Nibelung"  dramas.  It  was 
long  after  the  date  named  when  they  saw  the  light  of 
publicity,  and  in  the  meantime  many  events  of  sig- 
nificance were  to  take  place.  Not  the  least  of  these 
was  to  be  the  temporary  abandonment  of  the  beloved 
Siegfried  subject  for  another  work.  This  was  the 
great  "Tristan  und  Isolde,"  which  many  of  Wagner's 
admirers  regard  as  his  most  inspired  creation.     This 


A  Second  End  in  Paris  107 

work,  like  the  "  Flying  Dutchman,"  the  first  in  which 
the  real  Wagner  was  disclosed,  was  the  fruit  of  dis- 
couragement. Although,  through  the  liberality  of 
Liszt  and  a  few  others,  including  the  devoted  Ma- 
thilde  Wesendonck  (who  is  still  —  August,  1900  — 
living  in  Berlin),  the  Wagners  were  able  to  live  in  com- 
fort, and  Minna  could  afford  to  make  Richard  a  present 
of  silk  dressing-gowns  and  even  silk  trousers  for  house 
wear  on  his  return  from  London,  the  composer  saw 
no  way  to  convince  the  world  that  he  was  not  a  mere 
bundle  of  eccentricities,  but  a  master  with  living  em- 
bodiments of  the  true  theory  of  the  lyric  drama.  He 
was  sore  at  heart,  weary  of  writing  a  majestic  four- 
night  drama  which  might  never  see  the  light  of  the 
stage. 

in  1854,  while  he  was  at  work  on  "Die  Walkure," 
the  stories  of  "Tristan"  and  "Parsifal"  had  come  to 
his  attention,  and  the  plan  of  the  former  work  was 
sketched.  In  the  winter  of  1854-55  he  wrote  to  Liszt: 
"As  1  have  never  in  life  felt  the  real  bliss  of  love,  I 
must  erect  a  monument  to  the  most  beautiful  of  all 
my  dreams,  in  which,  from  beginning  to  end,  that 
love  shall  be  thoroughly  satiated.  I  have  in  my  head 
'Tristan  und  Isolde,'  the  simplest,  but  most  full- 
blooded  musical  conception.  With  the  black  flag 
which  floats  at  the  end  of  it  1  shall  cover  myself  to 
die."  In  the  midst  of  a  letter  of  January,  1855,  Liszt 
interrupted  the  discussion  of  other  matters  to  exclaim : 
"Stop!  One  thing  I  forgot  to  write  to  you:  Your 
'  Tristan  '  is  a  splendid  idea.  It  may  become  a  glori- 
ous work.  Do  not  abandon  it."  In  the  summer  of 
1856  Wagner  wrote  again:  "  I  have  again  two  splen- 
did subjects  which   I    must   execute.     'Tristan    und 


io8  Richard  Wagner 

Isolde  '  you  know,  and  after  that  the  '  Victory,' the 
most  sacred,  the  most  perfect  salvation." 

This  "Victory"*  was  a  Buddhistic  subject,  which 
Wagner  had  in  mind  for  a  short  time,  but  which  he 
abandoned  for  the  superior  attractions  of  "Parsifal." 
The  leading  theme,  that  of  the  renunciation  of  sexual 
love  by  the  hero,  and  the  assent  to  it  by  the  heroine, 
who  had  at  first  passionately  loved  the  unmoved  hero, 
bore  a  close  resemblance  to  the  personal  purity  of 
Parsifal  and  to  the  negation  of  the  desire  to  live,  pic- 
tured in  "Tristan"  as  the  highest  issue  of  real  love. 
These  thoughts  appealed  to  Wagner,  whose  mind  at 
this  time  was  deeply  under  the  influence  of  the  philo- 
sophy of  Schopenhauer.  The  Buddhistic  quietism 
which  prevailed  in  Schopenhauer's  philosophy  seemed 
to  offer  a  solution  to  the  life-problems  confronting 
Wagner,  and  it  was  natural  that  he  should  seek  to 
embody  the  emotional  essence  of  this  philosophy  in 
his  music  dramas.  In  1854  he  sent  a  copy  of  the 
poem  of  the  Nibelung  dramas  to  Schopenhauer  as  a 
mark  of  his  esteem. 

With  all  these  thoughts  active  in  his  mind,  the  poem 
of  Gottfried  von  Strassburg  on  "Tristan  und  Isolde" 
offered  him  an  opportunity  to  embody  his  ideas  in 
what  he  called  the  "simplest  and  most  full-blooded 
musical  conception."     He  was  eager  to  begin  a  work 

*A  sketch  of  this  drama,  under  the  title  of  "The  Victors,"  was 
found  among  Wagner's  papers,  dated  May  16,  1856.  The  hero, 
Ananda,  an  absolutely  pure  man,  renounces  sexual  love.  He  is  pas- 
sionately beloved  by  Prakriti,  the  beautiful  daughter  of  King  Tchan- 
dala.  The  heroine,  after  vainly  suffering  the  torments  of  unrequited 
passion,  renounces  love,  and  is  received  into  the  order  of  Buddha  by 
Ananda.  The  idea  of  salvation  through  negation  is  found  in  Wagner's 
"Tristan  "  and  again  in  his  "  Parsifal." 


A  Second  End  in  Paris  109 

which  might  possibly  be  produced,  and  all  at  once 
came  the  needed  final  incentive.  Dom  Pedro,  the 
Emperor  of  Brazil,  had  become  interested  in  the  Wag- 
ner movement,  and  he  sent  an  agent  to  the  composer 
to  ask  him  if  he  would  write  an  opera  for  the  Italian 
company  in  Rio  Janeiro.  He  might  name  his  own 
terms,  provided  he  would  promise  to  go  to  Brazil  and 
conduct  the  work.  Wagner  was  at  first  touched  by 
this  munificent  offer,  but  he  soon  saw  the  hopeless- 
ness of  trying  to  get  Italian  opera  singers  to  perform 
such  a  music  drama  as  he  was  about  to  write.  But 
the  Emperor's  offer  shaped  his  resolution,  and  in  the 
latter  part  of  June,  1857,  he  wrote  to  Liszt:  "1  have 
determined  finally  to  give  up  my  headstrong  design 
of  completing  the  '  Nibelungen.'  1  have  led  my  young 
Siegfried  to  a  beautiful  forest  solitude  and  there  have 
left  him  under  a  linden  tree,  and  taken  leave  of  him 
with  heartfelt  tears."  And  later,  in  the  same  letter, 
he  told  Liszt  that  he  had  decided  to  write  "Tristan 
und  Isolde  "  and  have  it  performed  at  Strassburg  with 
Niemann  and  Mme.  Meyer. 

On  the  last  day  of  1857  the  first  act  of  "  Tristan  " 
was  finished.  Wagner  now  made  a  trip  to  Paris,  on 
money  borrowed  from  Liszt,  in  the  hope  of  being  able 
to  arrange  a  performance  of  "Rienzi,"  but  nothing 
came  of  the  journey,  except  that  a  waiter  in  the  house 
in  which  he  lived  stole  a  large  part  of  the  advance 
royalties  which  Breitkopf  and  Hartel  had  paid  him  on 
the  completion  of  the  first  act  of  the  new  work.  He 
returned  to  Zurich  and  there  Liszt  sent  to  him  Carl 
Tausig,  the  pianist,  who  became  one  of  his  firmest 
friends  and  supporters,  and  who  subsequently  made 
the    piano     arrangement    of     "Die     Meistersinger." 


no  Richard  Wagner 

Tausig,  with  all  his  genius,  was  only  a  boy  of  seven- 
teen at  this  time,  and  he  could  not  satisfy  the  craving 
of  Wagner  for  sympathetic  intellectual  companion- 
ship. Unfortunately  the  composer  had  in  previous 
years  sought  this  in  the  society  of  Mrs.  Wesendonck, 
before  mentioned,  and  aroused  the  jealousy  of  poor 
Minna.  This  jealousy  led  in  1856  to  an  open  out- 
break, for  Wagner  wrote  to  Praeger,  who  was  on  his 
way  back  to  London  after  a  visit  to  the  composer, 
"The  devil  is  loose.  1  shall  leave  Zurich  at  once  and 
come  to  you  in  Paris."  But  a  little  later  he  wrote 
that  the  matter  had  been  smoothed  over.  This,  how- 
ever, was  one  of  the  evidences  that  this  unhappily  as- 
sorted union  was  slowly  nearing  its  dissolution. 

In  June,  1858,  Wagner  sketched  the  second  act  of 
"Tristan  und  Isolde,"  and  then  a  desire  for  quiet  and 
the  luxurious  atmosphere  of  Italy  took  possession  of 
him.  Venice,  not  having  any  German  alliance,  and 
there  being  consequently  no  danger  of  his  arrest  there, 
seemed  to  be  the  desired  place,  and  thither  he  went. 
He  wrote  the  music  of  the  second  act  of  the  opera  in 
Venice.  Then  came  news  that  a  projected  produc- 
tion of  "Rienzi "  in  Munich  had  been  abandoned,  and 
that  a  new  Intendant,  who  had  no  artistic  feeling,  had 
gone  to  reign  in  Weimar  and  make  Liszt  powerless. 
On  the  heels  of  these  misfortunes  came  an  attempt  of 
the  Saxon  government  to  drive  him  out  of  Venice. 
Disheartened,  embarrassed,  and  in  debt,  he  went  to 
Switzerland  and  secluded  himself  on  the  shores  of  the 
Lake  of  Lucerne.  There  in  the  summer  of  1859  he 
completed,  after  four  months'  work,  the  third  act  of 
"Tristan."  The  completed  score  was  placed  in  the 
hands  of  Breitkopf  and  Hiirtel,  and  then  Wagner  set 


A  Second  End  in  Paris  1 1 1 

to  work  to  find  an  opening  for  its  production.  Vari- 
ous difficulties  arose.  In  some  places  where  he  could 
have  had  singers  he  dared  not  set  foot.  In  other 
places  he  could  get  no  competent  performers. 

Wagner's  final  departure  from  Zurich  was  undoubt- 
edly due  to  the  action  of  Mr.  Wesendonck.  The 
nature  of  the  attachment  between  Mrs.  Wesendonck 
and  the  composer  could  no  longer  be  concealed. 
Wagner  had  dedicated  to  her  a  sonata  and  the  prelude 
to  "Die  Walkure."  He  had  set  words  of  hers  to 
music.  She  was  his  friend,  his  confidante.  Accord- 
ing to  M.  Belart,  in  whose  "Richard  Wagner  in 
Zurich,"  published  in  Leipsic  in  1900,  this  whole  mat- 
ter was  discussed,  Wagner  left  Zurich  finally  and 
suddenly  on  Aug.  17,  1859.  Mr.  Wesendonck,  when 
questioned  about  the  matter  in  after  years,  said  flatly 
that  he  compelled  Wagner  to  go.  He  went  to  Jacob 
Sulzer,  previously  mentioned,  borrowed  some  money, 
and  started  for  Geneva.  Minna  Wagner  went  to 
Dresden.  This  was  the  beginning  of  the  end  between 
them.  There  is  some  discrepancy  in  the  dates.  There 
is  no  doubt  that  Wagner  went  to  Lucerne  when  he 
returned  from  Venice,  but  he  must  have  gone  again  to 
Zurich  in  the  course  of  the  summer.  At  any  rate 
when  he  went  to  Geneva,  he  was  en  route  for  Paris, 
and  the  Wesendonck  entanglement  was  at  an  end.  In 
1865  Wagner  wrote  to  the  injured  husband: 

"  The  incident  that  separated  me  from  you  about  six  years  ago 
should  be  evaded;  it  has  upset  me  and  my  life  enough  that  you  recog- 
nise me  no  longer,  and  that  1  esteem  myself  less  and  less.  All  this 
suffering  should  have  earned  your  forgiveness,  and  it  would  have 
been  beautiful,  noble,  to  have  forgiven  me;  but  it  is  useless  to  de- 
mand the  impossible,  and  I  was  in  tlie  wrong." 


112  Richard  Waener 


&)' 


It  was  in  September,  1859,  that  Wagner  arrived  in 
the  French  capital.  He  settled  in  the  Rue  Newton, 
near  the  Arc  de  Trioinphe,  and  there  he  and  Minna, 
who  had  rejoined  him,  received  their  friends  every 
Wednesday.  Among  the  frequenters  of  their  home 
were  Emile  Oilivier,  the  French  statesman  and  hus- 
band of  Liszt's  daughter  Blandine;  Frederic  Villot, 
keeper  of  the  imperial  museums;  Edmond  Roche, 
afterward  the  translator  of  "Tannhauser ";  Hector 
Berlioz,  Carvalho,  director  of  the  Theatre  Lyrique; 
Gustave  Dore,  Jules  Ferry,  Charles  Baudelaire,  and  A. 
de  Gasparini,  afterward  one  of  the  biographers  of 
Wagner. 

Later,  when  the  composer  had  taken  a  new  resid- 
ence at  No.  3,  Rue  d'Aumale,  there  was  added  to 
this  number  Cosima,  a  younger  daughter  of  Liszt, 
married  two  years  previously  to  Hans  von  Bulow.  By 
arrangement  with  M.  Carvalho,  Wagner  gave  three 
concerts  in  the  Theatre  des  Italiens  on  Jan.  25,  and 
Feb.  I  and  8,  i860.  The  overture  to  "Tannhauser" 
and  the  prelude  to  "Tristan  und  Isolde"  were  given 
at  these  entertainments.  These  concerts  were  pecun- 
niarily  disastrous,  and  so  also  were  two  given  in 
Brussels  in  March.  Both  press  and  public  were  non- 
plused by  Wagner's  music,  and  it  remained  for  Hec- 
tor Berlioz  to  lead,  by  an  article  published  in  the 
Gaiette  Miisicale,  in  the  subsequent  general  attack. 
Meanwhile  Wagner  was  striving  to  induce  M,  Car- 
valho to  produce  "Tannhauser"  at  the  Theatre 
Lyrique,  when  suddenly  an  unexpected  power  inter- 
vened. 

According  to  Wagner's  account  given  to  Praeger, 
the  Emperor  Napoleon  111.,  in  conversation  with  the 


A  Second  End  in  Paris  113 

Princess  Metternich,  asked  her  if  she  had  heard  the 
latest  opera  of  Prince  Poniatowski.  She  answered 
that  she  had,  and  that  she  did  not  care  for  such  music. 
"But  is  it  not  good?"  asked  the  Emperor.  "No," 
she  responded.  "  But  where  is  better  music  to  be 
got,  then.?"  "Why,  your  Majesty,  you  have  at  the 
present  moment  the  greatest  composer  that  ever 
lived  in  your  capital."  "Who  is  he.?"  "Richard 
Wagner. "  ' '  Then  why  do  they  not  give  his  operas  ?  " 
"  Because  he  is  in  earnest,  and  would  require  all  kinds 
of  concessions  and  much  money."  "Very  well;  he 
shall  have  carte  blanche."  The  Emperor  accordingly 
gave  orders  that  "Tannhiiuser"  should  be  mounted 
at  the  Grand  Opera.  This  stroke  of  fortune  came 
like  lightning  out  of  a  clear  sky,  yet  Wagner  was  not 
altogether  blind  to  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  a  sat- 
isfactory performance. 

With  the  scenic  preparations,  which  now  began,  he 
was  delighted,  for  the  resources  and  skill  of  the  lead- 
ing opera  house  of  Europe  were  at  his  disposal.  But 
the  lack  of  singers  trained  in  the  theory  of  the  lyric 
drama  hampered  him.  He  stipulated  that  Albert  Nie- 
mann should  be  engaged  for  the  title  role,  and  that  he 
should  have  time  to  learn  the  French  text.  He  asked 
for  Faure  to  create  the  role  of  Wolfram  for  the  Paris- 
ians, but  that  new  and  rising  star  demanded  too  large 
a  salary,  and  Morelli  was  engaged  for  the  part.  With 
this  singer,  and  Mme.  Tedesco,  the  Venus,  Wagner 
had  no  end  of  trouble,  as  they  were  Italians  and  utterly 
without  comprehension  of  his  ideas.  Marie  Saxe, 
who  had  a  lovely  voice,  was  wooden  in  her  acting, 
and  Wagner  had  to  drive  her  to  movement  and  life. 
Edmond  Roche's  translation  of  the  text  proved  to  be 

8 


114  Richard  Wagner 

too  rough  for  use,  and  finally  Charles  Nuitter,  who 
translated  Bellini's  "  Romeo  et  Juliette  "  for  the  Opera, 
was  employed  to  finish  the  work. 

In  his  anxiety  to  make  himself  and  his  purposes 
known  to  the  Parisians  Wagner  published  four  of  his 
dramatic  poems,  prefliced  by  a  letter  on  music,*  in 
which  he  endeavoured  to  set  forth  his  ideas.  M. 
Adolphe  Jullien  says  of  this  letter:  "  As  Wagner  had 
in  i860  already  written  'Tristan  und  Isolde,'  and  as 
that  poem  figured  in  his  book,  he  instinctively  carried 
the  history  of  his  life  and  of  the  development  of  his 
ideas  beyond  the  point  of  'Tristan,'  without  reflecting 
that  he  was  thereby  exceeding  his  aim,  it  being  simply 
a  question  of  preparing  people  to  hear  '  Tannhiiuser.'  " 
There  is  no  doubt  that  this  letter  did  much  to  confuse 
those  Frenchmen  who  read  it  and  to  deepen  the  spirit 
of  opposition  to  Wagner's  reformatory  theories. 

But  despite  all  thes:;  things  the  production  of 
"Tannhiiuser"  might  have  come  to  a  successful  issue 
but  for  one  difficulty.  The  gentlemen  of  the  Jockey 
Club,  who  were  among  the  most  important  of  the 
subscribers  to  the  Opera,  and  who,  of  course,  did  not 
at  any  time  desire  to  take  the  entertainment  seriously, 
were  in  the  habit  of  arriving  after  their  dinners  in  time 
for  the  ballet.  In  the  original  version  of  "  Tann- 
hauser "  there  was  no  attempt  at  a  ballet,  and  Alphonse 
Royer,  the  director  of  the  Grand  Opera,  besought 
Wagner  to  introduce  one  in  the  hall  of  song,  in  the 
second  act.  This  the  composer  peremptorily  refused 
to  do,  because  it  would  interfere  with  the  dramatic 
integrity  of  the  scene.     He  would  consent  only  to  a 

*"The  Music  of  the  Future,"  W.  Ashton  Ellis's  translation  of 
Wagner's  Prose  Works,  Vol.  III. 


A  Second  End  in  Paris  115 

rearrangement  of  the  first  scene,  where,  in  the  revels 
in  the  Venusberg,  a  ballet  with  some  significance  might 
be  introduced.  He  therefore  rewrote  this  scene,  cut- 
ting out  the  stirring  finale  of  the  overture  and  raising 
the  curtain  on  the  second  appearance  of  the  baccha- 
nalian music,  which  was  now  extended  and  elaborated 
so  that  a  pantomimic  ballet  might  be  danced.  He  also 
elaborated  the  scene  between  Tannhauser  and  Venus, 
after  this  ballet,  according  to  his  later  conceptions  of 
music  drama.  The  music  of  this  new  scene  was 
written  in  the  style  of  "Tristan  und  Isolde,"  and,  at 
every  performance  of  the  Parisian  version  of  "Tann- 
hauser," obstinately  refuses  to  amalgamate  in  style 
with  the  rest  of  the  score.  This  whole  new  scene 
was  beyond  the  comprehension  of  the  Parisian  public 
of  186 1,  but  might  have  been  tolerated  had  it  not  been 
a  direct  affront  to  the  subscribers.  A  further  element 
of  danger  lay  in  the  fact  that  the  conductor  was  no 
other  than  Dietsch,  the  musician  who  had  failed  with 
"The  Phantom  Ship  "  after  Wagner  had  sold  that  text 
to  Leon  Pillet. 

The  first  performance  took  place  on  Wednesday, 
March  13,  1861.  After  the  first  act  the  gentlemen  of 
the  Jockey  Club  went  out  and  bought  all  the  hunting 
whistles  they  could  get,  and  as  soon  as  the  second  act 
began  they  set  up  a  din  which  gradually  drowned  out 
the  performance  except  in  the  forte  passages.  In  the 
third  act  pandemonium  reigned,  and  the  thrilling  nar- 
rative of  Tannhauser  was  unheard  in  the  chorus  of 
yells  from  the  auditorium.  Wagner's  friends  ap- 
plauded, and  the  Emperor  on  several  occasions  led  the 
favourable  demonstrations,  but  Wagner  was  taught 
that   in   Paris  the  coryphee  ranked  above   high   art. 


ii6  Richard  Wagner 

Before  the  second  performance,  March  i8,  Royer  suc- 
ceeded in  inducing  Wagner  to  cut  out  some  of  the 
most  familiar  parts  of  the  work,  a  portion  of  the  Venus 
scene,  the  plaintive  melody  of  the  shepherd's  pipe,  the 
hunting  horns  and  the  appearance  of  the  dogs  at  the 
end  of  the  first  act,  and  other  similar  things,  all  now 
known  to  every  lover  of  Wagner's  work.  The  gen- 
tlemen of  the  Jockey  Club  again  drowned  the  latter 
half  of  the  opera  with  their  whistles,  despite  the  plain 
protest  of  a  large  part  of  the  audience  led  by  the  Em- 
peror. The  third  performance  was  given  on  a  Sunday 
in  order  that  the  subscribers  might  not  be  present. 
That  the  general  public  was  interested  in  the  opera  is 
proved  by  the  receipts  :  First  performance,  7,491 
francs;  second,  8,415;  third,  10,764. 

Wagner  now  refused  to  allow  the  performances  to 
continue,  and  as  he  had  borne  much  of  their  expense 
he  left  Paris  burdened  with  debts.  But  the  shrieks  of 
the  Jockey  Club  whistles  had  resounded  across  the 
Rhine  and  stirred  up  a  Teutonic  indignation,  which 
was  eventually  to  be  of  much  benefit  to  him.  The 
French  public  was  not  unjust  to  Wagner;  he  knew 
that  and  testified  to  it;  but,  as  Charles  Baudelaire  ex- 
claimed in  his  pamphlet  on  the  episode,  **'Tann- 
hauser'  was  not  even  heard." 


CHAPTER   XI 

A   MONARCH   TO   THE   RESCUE 
"My  King,  thou  rarest  shield  of  this  my  living." — Wagner 

Wagner  went  from  Paris  to  Vienna,  where  he 
hoped  that  a  production  of  "Tristan  und  Isolde" 
might  be  arranged.  The  manager  of  the  opera  house, 
when  he  learned  that  the  composer  was  about  to  visit 
the  city,  prepared  a  special  performance  of  "  Lohen- 
grin." This  took  place  on  May  15,  1861,  and  for  the 
first  time  Wagner  himself  heard  the  work  which  has 
touched  the  hearts  of  so  many  thousands  of  his  fellow- 
creatures.  At  the  end  of  each  act  the  audience  forced 
him  to  acknowledge  its  applause,  and  at  the  conclu- 
sion of  the  performance  he  was  called  before  the  cur- 
tain three  times  and  compelled  to  make  a  brief  speech. 
Many  times  afterward  did  he  refer  to  the  intoxication 
of  that  wondrous  May  night.  Think  of  it!  Thirteen 
years  after  it  was  written,  and  eleven  years  after  its 
first  performance,  the  writer  of  the  most  popular 
opera  in  the  world  heard  it  for  the  first  time.  And 
even  then  this  master,  who  had  already  written 
"Rienzi,"  "The  Flying  Dutchman,"  "Tannhiiuser," 
"Lohengrin,"  "Das  Rheingold,"  "Die  Walkure," 
part  of  "Siegfried,"  and  "Tristan  und  Isolde,"  was  a 
wanderer  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  an  outcast,  and 
could  not  make  a  living  from  his  music. 

117 


1 1 8  Richard  Wagner 

His  early  works  were  now  beginning  to  find  their 
way  to  the  stage,  but  the  royalties  paid  in  the  German 
theatres  were  too  small  and  the  performances  too  in- 
frequent to  bring  him  in  a  satisfactory  income.  His 
first  effort,  therefore,  was  to  get  "Tristan  und  Isolde 
produced,  and  to  his  great  joy  the  manager  of  the 
Vienna  opera  accepted  the  score.  Preparations  were 
at  once  made  for  the  production.  But,  alas!  that  was 
still  far  away.  The  rehearsals  began  in  the  fall,  but 
the  tenor,  Ander,  was  taken  sick,  and  the  whole  win- 
ter was  lost.  When  the  work  was  resumed,  it 
dragged  along  at  a  snail's  pace,  and  finally,  after  fifty- 
four  rehearsals,  the  drama  was  abandoned  as  impos- 
sible. Ander,  the  Tristan,  told  Dr.  Hanslick  that  as 
fast  as  he  learned  one  act  he  forgot  another.  Wagner, 
on  the  contrary,  asserted  in  after  years  that  all  the 
singers  went  through  the  whole  work  with  him  at 
the  piano.  However,  it  is  not  difficult  to  conceive 
that  the  artists  of  that  day  may  have  found  "Tristan 
und  Isolde  "  impracticable,  seeing  that  the  work  never 
was  really  sung  until  within  the  last  half-dozen  years, 
when  the  greatest  vocal  artists  of  the  world  appeared 
in  it. 

While  the  Viennese  were  floundering,  Wagner 
found  it  necessary  to  do  something  toward  earning 
money,  and  so  he  undertook  a  concert  tour.  In  Carls- 
ruhe,  Prague,  and  Weimar  negotiations  for  the  pro- 
duction of  Tristan  fell  through,  but  in  the  last-named 
place  Wagner  was  royally  received  in  the  summer  by 
Liszt  and  the  other  musicians.  The  general  amnesty 
which  had  been  granted  some  years  before  to  the 
rebels  of  1848  made  it  possible  for  him  to  go  openly 
to  Germany,  except  the  kingdom  of  Saxony,  and  even 


A  Monarch  to  the  Rescue         119 

that  was  soon  opened  to  him.  He  planned  a  tour, 
and  reluctantly  prepared  to  produce  excerpts  from  his 
own  works,  as  the  only  means  of  advertising  them. 
He  confesses  that  dire  necessity  forced  him  to  this 
step  so  inconsistent  with  his  theories,  and  his  enemies 
did  not  hesitate  to  taunt  him  with  the  inconsistency. 
He  was  alone  in  his  travels,  for  the  winter  of  1861  in 
Paris  had  been  the  last  straw  on  the  back  of  the  pa- 
tient Minna.  She  could  no  longer  endure  her  life  with 
this  "  monster  of  genius,"  who  would  not  be  a  faith- 
ful husband,  who  wrote  works  ridiculed  by  the  world, 
and  could  not  earn  bread  and  butter.  She  left  him  and 
went  back  to  Leipsic  to  live  with  her  relatives.  She 
and  her  husband  never  came  together  again,  though 
they  occasionally  referred  to  one  another  with  tolerance 
in  their  letters  to  third  persons.  Minna  died  in  1866. 
The  concert  tour  began  in  the  winter  of  1862,  and 
Wagner  travelled  in  Germany  and  even  into  Russia. 
In  the  latter  country  alone  did  his  entertainments 
bring  him  in  any  substantial  pecuniary  returns.  He 
was  in  Moscow  when  he  learned  that  the  rehearsals 
of  "Tristan  und  Isolde"  had  been  abandoned  at 
Vienna.  He  had  become  indifferent  on  the  subject. 
He  was  almost  convinced  that  he  ought  to  give  up  his 
attempt  to  be  a  composer.  Mr.  Finck  notes  that  at 
one  time  he  seriously  thought  of  going  to  India  as  a 
tutor  in  an  English  family.  Let  it  be  borne  in  mind 
that  in  1863,  while  he  was  still  wandering  about,  giv- 
ing these  concerts,  he  was  fifty  years  old,  and  that, 
with  a  surging  consciousness  within  him  that  he  had 
created  immortal  works,  he  was  stared  at  by  people 
wherever  he  went  as  a  freak  and  a  madman,  and  was 
caricatured  and  ridiculed  by  almost  the  whole  press  of 


I20  Richard  Wagner 

Europe.  And  all  this  because  he  had  dared  to  say  that 
an  opera  was  a  poetic  drama,  and  should  be  so  written, 
so  performed,  and  so  received  by  the  public. 

Yet  in  these  years  of  hardship,  sorrow,  and  discour- 
agement he  wrote  the  text  of  his  most  humorous 
work.  He  took  up  and  completed  the  book  of  "  Die 
Meistersinger,"  of  which  he  had  made  a  sketch  in 
1845,  just  after  the  production  of  "  Tannhauser." 
This  work  was  done  in  the  course  of  a  temporary 
residence  in  Paris  in  the  winter  of  1861-62.  The  text 
was  published,  or  rather  printed  for  circulation  among 
his  friends,  in  1862.  The  version  now  known  to  all 
music  lovers  shows  many  changes.  The  copyright  of 
the  drama  was  sold  to  Messrs.  Schott,  of  Mainz,  and 
accordingly  Wagner  went  to  Biebrich,  a  little  town 
opposite  Mainz,  to  compose  the  music.  He  subse- 
quently continued  his  labours  at  Penzing,  near  Vienna, 
and  there  also  he  published  the  text  of  "  Der  Ring  des 
Nibelungen  "  as  a  piece  of  literature.  He  declared 
that  he  did  not  expect  to  finish  the  music,  and  that 
he  had  no  hope  of  living  to  see  the  work  performed. 
It  was  at  this  time  that  Wagner's  affairs  sank  into 
such  a  state  that  he  was  overwhelmed.  He  decided 
to  go  to  Russia  and  remain  there  the  rest  of  his  life. 
But  first  he  must  finish  the  score  of  "Die  Meister- 
singer." So  he  wrote  to  his  old  friend,  Mme.  Wille, 
at  Zurich,  and  asked  her  to  receive  him  for  a  short 
time.  Like  the  familiar  man  in  the  play,  he  arrived 
on  the  heels  of  his  letter,  and  Frau  Wille  had  to  exert 
herself  to  make  all  ready  for  the  great  man.  But  she 
realised  that  all  Wagner's  doings  and  sayings  would 
have  historical  importance,  and  she  made  notes  from 
which  she  afterward  published  a  valuable  article. 


A  Monarch  to  the  Rescue         121 

From  this  we  learn  that  the  great  musician  while  in 
her  home  was  the  prey  of  conflicting  emotions,  but 
was  most  frequently  plunged  in  despair.  He  had  a 
deep,  a  passionate  conviction  of  his  own  powers.  He 
was  inspired  with  an  absolute  prevision  of  the  world- 
wide glorification  that  would  come  to  his  name  when 
once  his  works  were  adequately  made  known.  And 
because  of  this  he  suffered  agonies  of  mind  and  heart 
while  the  scores  lay  silent  in  his  desk.  He  cried  out 
against  the  niggardliness  of  a  world  which  refused  him 
a  few  luxuries  when  he  was  preparing  joy  for  so  many 
thousands.  He  felt  that  the  time  would  come  when 
the  world  would  be  ready  to  heap  all  kinds  of  honours 
on  his  head,  but  he  feared  that  it  would  come  too  late. 

Yet  in  this  state  of  mind  the  genius  of  production 
would  not  sleep  within  him.  He  worked  unceasingly 
at  the  score  of  "  Die  Meistersinger,"  and,  according  to 
Mme.  Wille's  own  account,  with  a  perfect  satisfaction 
as  to  its  greatness.  Wagner  had  what  has  frequently 
been  called  the  vanity  of  men  of  genius.  He  spoke 
with  childish  naivete  of  his  works.  He  spoke  of  him- 
self without  hesitation  as  a  great  man,  and  he  had  not 
even  the  slightest  consciousness  that  a  difference  of 
opinion  was  possible.  But  such  vanity  is  pardonable 
in  a  man  who  so  thoroughly  justifies  it.  Cicero, 
Napoleon,  and  Beethoven  had  a  similar  sort  of  vanity. 
The  world  has  learned  to  smile  indulgently  upon  it. 
And  whereas  in  Wagner's  lifetime  his  vanity  and  love 
of  luxury  made  him  perhaps  not  an  altogether  agree- 
able companion,  they  detract  in  no  way  from  his 
claims  to  recognition  as  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
men  ever  born. 

One  day,   while  at   the  Willes',    Wagner  received 


122  Richard  Wagner 

word  that  his  Viennese  creditors  were  on  his  track, 
and  he  resolved  to  go  away.  He  was  at  his  wits' 
end,  for  everywhere  "Tristan"  was  pronounced  im- 
possible, and  "  Die  Meistersinger "  was  refused  before 
the  score  was  seen.  He  went  to  Stuttgart  with  the 
vain  hope  that  he  could  arrange  for  the  performance 
of  some  of  his  operas  there  and  thus  earn  enough  to 
stave  off  misfortune  for  a  time.  And  even  while  he 
had  fled,  his  fortune  was  pursuing  him.  At  last  to 
this  weary  wanderer,  this  "Flying  Dutchman"  of 
musical  history,  were  to  come  rest  and  peace  and  a 
perfect  love.  At  last  one  dream  of  all  his  years  of 
insatiable  longing  was  to  be  realised.  At  last  his 
scores  would  sound  "  from  off  the  death-wan  paper," 
and  the  world  would  learn  the  true  might  of  Richard 
Wagner. 

In  the  preface  to  the  poem  of  the  "  Nibelung's  Ring," 
Wagner  had  described  the  means  and  manner  of  per- 
formance—  had,  in  a  word,  laid  down  the  plan  of 
Bayreuth.  But  he  felt  that  only  a  monarch  could 
afford  to  give  the  financial  support  to  such  a  scheme, 
and  he  wrote,  "Will  that  king  be  found?"  Now 
there  was  a  young  prince  who  fed  his  soul  on  Wag- 
ner's works  and  who  worshipped  the  master  in 
secret.  At  fifteen  he  had  heard  "  Lohengrin,"  and,  like 
all  whose  operatic  experience  began  with  Wagner,  he 
had  become  an  ardent  Wagnerite.  He  had  watched 
his  idol's  career  of  misfortune  in  helpless  pity.  And 
then  suddenly  the  King  of  Bavaria  went  to  join  his 
fathers  and  this  generous  youth  seated  himself  upon 
the  throne.  One  of  his  first  acts  was  to  send  a  mes- 
senger to  bid  Wagner  come  to  his  capital  and  complete 
the  majestic  labours  of  his  life  in  peace. 


A  Monarch  to  the  Rescue         123 

Herr  Sauer,  the  appointed  messenger,  searched  high 
and  low.  He  delved  in  Wagner's  old  haunts  at 
Vienna,  but  the  very  memory  of  the  mad  composer 
seemed  to  have  gone.  So  he  went  down  to  Switzer- 
land and  hunted  in  Zurich  and  Lucerne.  But  there 
was  no  Wagner.  Then  Baron  Hornstein,  a  minor 
composer,  met  him  out  in  a  boat  on  Lake  Lucerne  and 
told  him  that  Wagner  was  in  Stuttgart.  At  any  rate 
this  is  the  story  told  to  Mr.  Finck  by  Heinrich  Vogl, 
the  tenor,  who  said  that  Wagner  confirmed  it.  Sauer 
took  Wagner  to  Munich,  and  there  on  May  4,  1864,  he 
wrote  to  Frau  Wille  that  it  all  seemed  like  a  dream. 

"  He  wants  me  to  be  with  him  always,  to  work,  to 
rest,  to  produce  my  works;  he  will  give  me  every- 
thing I  need ;  1  am  to  finish  my  Nibelungen  and  he  will 
have  them  performed  as  I  wish.  1  am  to  be  my  own 
unrestricted  master;  not  Kapellmeister  —  nothing  but 
myself  and  his  friend.  All  troubles  are  to  be  taken 
from  me;  I  shall  have  whatever  I  need,  if  only  I  stay 
with  him." 

This  enthusiastic  youth  of  eighteen,  with  a  royal 
treasury  at  his  disposal,  and  the  splendid  musical 
traditions  of  Munich  reaching  away  behind  him  to  the 
era  of  Orlando  Lasso,  was  to  be  the  saviour  of  Wagner's 
work.  He  was  already  a  worshipper  of  the  art  of  the 
master,  and  he  speedily  proved  himself  to  be  attached 
to  him  by  a  deep  personal  affection.  On  Lake  Starn- 
berg,  no  great  distance  from  Munich,  the  King  gave 
Wagner  a  pretty  villa,  and  there  he  spent  the  summer 
of  1864.  The  King's  summer  palace  was  only  a  mile 
or  two  away,  and  the  monarch  and  composer  were 
much  in  one  another's  company.  The  young  King's 
friendship    was  of  a  passionate   kind,  such  as  only 


124  Richard  Wagner 

romantic  youths  entertain,  and,  unfortunately,  of  the 
sort  that  was  sure  in  the  course  of  time  to  lead  to 
scandalous  comment  in  the  polite  society  of  a  court. 

In  honour  of  his  new  patron  Wagner  wrote  in  that 
summer  the  "Huldigungs  Marsch,"  which  has  the 
romantic  character  implanted  in  all  Wagner's  concert 
pieces.  Here,  too,  at  the  wish  of  his  young  patron, 
Wagner  wrote  his  essay  on  "State  and  Religion" 
(Mr.  Ellis's  translation,  Vol.  IV.).  As  in  all  the  other 
writings  of  Wagner  bearing  upon  the  conduct  of  a 
State,  in  this  essay  art  is  held  up  as  the  panacea  for 
all  ills.  He  saw  the  ideal  of  the  State  embodied  in  the 
person  of  the  King,  who  by  the  nature  of  his  position 
must  take  life  most  seriously,  and  in  whose  inability 
to  attain  ideal  justice  and  humanity  there  is  something 
tragic.  But  for  these  ideals  the  King  is  bound  to 
strive  and  so  must  lead  a  life  of  misery  if  he  does  not 
seek  the  only  solace,  namely,  religion.  Then  fol- 
lows a  long  definition  of  religion.  How  shall  the 
King  endure  ?  By  refreshing  his  mind  with  the  pleas- 
ing distractions  of  art.  The  essay  easily  convinces 
the  reader  that  Wagner  was  not,  as  he  often  wished 
be,  a  philosopher,  but  simply  an  artist  whose  reas- 
oning flexibly  followed  the  flow  of  his  ruling  in- 
stincts. 

So  passed  the  first  summer  under  the  royal  pro- 
tection, pleasantly,  almost  idyllically.  But  now  serious 
work  was  to  begin.  In  the  autumn  the  two  friends 
returned  to  Munich.  A  residence  in  a  quiet  part  of 
the  city  was  set  apart  for  the  use  of  Wagner,  and  he 
prepared  to  resume  the  production  of  his  master- 
pieces. Hans  von  Bulow,  his  former  pupil,  was  sum- 
moned with  a  view  to  his  becoming  the  conductor 


A  Monarch  to  the  Rescue         125 

of  "  Tristan  und  Isolde."  This  beginning  was  effected 
in  the  summer,  for  Mme.  von  Bulow,  little  dreaming 
whither  she  was  going,  arrived  in  Munich  with  her 
two  daughters  in  June,  and  Von  Bulow  followed  the 
next  month.  The  influence  of  Cosima  von  Bulow 
upon  Wagner  began  at  once.  He  had  been  lonely 
and  depressed  ever  since  his  separation  from  his  wife, 
and  the  advent  of  this  woman  of  artistic  temperament 
and  commanding  intellect,  the  fruit  of  the  illicit  union 
of  Franz  Liszt  and  the  brilliant  Countess  d'Agoult  (the 
"Daniel  Stern"  of  French  literature),  aroused  in  him 
new  conceptions  of  the  "eternal  woman-soul." 

Peter  Cornelius,  the  pupil  of  Liszt  and  composer  of 
the  admirable  "Barber  of  Bagdad,"  was  also  sum- 
moned, and  not  far  away  lived  the  young  Hans  Richter, 
afterward  to  be  one  of  the  principal  conductors  of 
Wagner's  music.  The  ardent  young  King  was  all 
eagerness  to  begin  the  work  of  performance,  but 
Wagner  was  hampered  by  the  want  of  singers  capable 
of  singing  such  new  music  as  that  of  "Tristan  und 
Isolde."  In  Ludwig  Schnorr  von  Carolsfeld  and  his 
wife  were  found  representatives  of  the  hero  and  hero- 
ine, but  Wagner  foresaw  that  the  method  of  singing 
the  music  drama  of  the  future  would  need  wide  study, 
and  so  he  wrote  a  long  paper  on  a  plan  for  a  school 
of  music  in  Munich.  This  paper  gave  a  detailed  out- 
line of  the  operation  of  a  conservatory,  and  set  forth 
as  its  purpose  the  artistic  interpretation  of  the  works 
of  the  older  German  masters,  and  leading  thence  to 
the  treatment  of  the  modern  music  drama.  The  old 
Munich  Conservatory  was  closed  by  the  King's  order 
in  the  early  summer  of  i86s.  But  the  plan  to  reopen 
it  on  the  lines  laid  down  by  Wagner  failed  through 


126  Richard  Wagner 

the  hostility  of  the  local  musicians.  It  was  reopened 
in  1867  under  Hans  von  Biiiow,  who  was  able  to  carry 
out  Wagner's  ideas  only  to  a  limited  extent. 

In  October  the  King  decided  that  "  Der  Ring  des 
Nibelungen  "  should  be  produced,  and  the  date  was  set 
for  it  three  years  thence.  On  December  4  "  Der  Flie- 
gende  Hollander"  was  performed,  and  on  December 
II,  January  i,  and  February  i  Wagner  conducted  con- 
certs. In  January  Gottfried  Semper,  the  architect, 
was  called  to  Munich  to  be  consulted  about  plans  for 
the  new  theatre  for  the  Nibelung  dramas.  And  mean- 
while the  preparations  for  the  production  of  "  Tristan  " 
went  forward.  Wagner's  star  was  at  last  in  the  as- 
cendant. 


CHAPTER  XII 

SOME   IDEALS   REALISED 
"  Lausch',  Kind  !     Das  ist  ein  Meisterlied." — Die  Meistersinger 

And  now,  under  the  guidance  of  a  monarch  to 
whom  Wagner's  art  was  almost  the  inspiration  of  life, 
Munich,  which  in  1858  had  rejected  "Der  Fliegende 
Hollander"  as  unsuitable  to  the  German  stage,  was 
about  to  produce  "Tristan  und  Isolde,"  the  supreme 
essence  of  Wagner's  matured  genius.  In  April,  1865, 
the  composer  wrote  a  general  letter  inviting  his  friends 
everywhere  to  go  to  Munich  and  attend  this  first  of  all 
Wagner  festivals,  three  performances  of  a  work  already 
eight  years  old,  set  down  for  May  15,  18,  and  22.  But 
postponements  took  place,  and  the  work  was  not  pro- 
duced until  June  10.  It  was  repeated  on  June  13  and 
19  and  July  i.  Each  performance  was  attended  by  a 
large  audience,  and  the  applause  was  of  the  most  vig- 
orous kind.  Much  of  the  success  was  due  to  the 
superb  conducting  of  Von  Bulow,  whom  Wagner 
called  his  second  self,  and  the  inspired  interpretation 
of  Tristan  by  Ludwig  Schnorr.  Wagner  declared  that 
his  ideal  was  fully  realised  by  this  great  artist,  and  he 
bemoaned  Schnorr's  subsequent  untimely  death  as  the 
greatest    possible  loss  to  him  and  his  work.*     The 

*  A  gentleman,  who  in  liis  youth  heard  Schnorr  sing  Tristan,  has 
127 


128  Richard  Wagner 

composer's  essay  on  this  singer  is  a  most  eloquent 
tribute  from  a  creative  to  an  interpretative  artist,  and 
throw  invaluable  light  on  Wagner's  theories  of  perfor- 
mance in  general  and  the  presentation  of  "  Tristan  und 
Isolde"  in  particular. 

It  may  easily  be  understood  that  this  was  a  period 
of  unalloyed  happiness  for  Wagner.  His  highest 
dreams  were  being  realised,  and  he  was  working  out 
his  artistic  purposes  with  a  free  hand.  But  such  an 
Elysium  could  not  last.  His  enemies  were  striving 
against  him  with  might  and  main.  The  newspapers 
were  used  unscrupulously  to  spread  all  kinds  of  dam- 
aging reports.  It  was  said  that  he  was  endeavouring 
to  substitute  art  for  religion  in  the  State,  that  he  was 
leading  the  young  King  into  reckless  extravagances 
which  threatened  the  stability  of  the  national  treasury. 
The  King  was,  indeed,  considering  the  plan  to  build 
a  special  theatre  for  the  production  of  the  Nibelung 
dramas.  Such  a  theatre  was  subsequently  built  at 
Bayreuth,  and  Munich  might  have  had  the  honour  and 
the  profit  which  have  since  accrued  to  that  little  city, 
had  it  not  been  for  the  determined  opposition  of  nar- 
row-minded intriguers.*  ". 

The  story  was  published  that  the  new  theatre  was 

assured  me  that  he  was  not  the  typical  German  representative  of  the 
part,  but  that  he  approached  in  his  singing  the  manner  of  Jean  de 
Reszke.  Schnorr's  voice,  my  informant  says,  was  a  beautiful,  sweet, 
lyric  tenor,  and  his  style  was  one  in  which  a  fluent  and  touching  can- 
tabile  was  the  most  conspicuous  feature.  This  statement,  in  conjunc- 
tion with  Wagner's  declaration  that  Schnorr  fulfilled  his  ideal,  should 
contribute  something  toward  a  destruction  of  the  foolish  notion  that 
Wagner's  music  ought  not  to  be  beautifully  sung. 

*  The  new  Munich  Wagner  Theatre,  opened  in  the  summer  of  1901, 
stands  almost  on  the  spot  on  which  King  Ludwig's  was  to  stand. 


Some  Ideals  Realised  129 

to  cost  millions.  Other  equally  wild  assertions  were 
made.  The  people  became  aroused,  and  finally  police 
and  court  officials  represented  to  the  King  that  Wag- 
ner's life  was  in  danger.  The  composer  had  already 
answered  in  a  calm  and  dignified  letter  the  various 
newspaper  calumnies,  but  that  availed  him  nothing. 
The  King  besought  him  to  leave  Munich,  in  order  that 
public  confidence  might  be  restored.  And  accordingly, 
after  a  stay  of  a  year  and  a  half  in  the  city,  he  departed 
in  December,  1865,  to  his  favourite  refuge,  Switzerland. 
He  made  a  short  stay  at  Vevay  and  Geneva,  and  then 
in  February,  1866,  settled  at  Triebschen,  near  Lucerne, 
where  he  remained,  with  little  interruption,  till  he  re- 
moved to  Bayreuth  in  1872.  Most  of  the  frantic  op- 
position to  the  royal  support  of  Wagner  appeared  to 
have  arisen  from  the  project  of  bringing  to  ideal  pro- 
duction the  Nibelung  cycle,  and  so  this  was  for  the 
time  abandoned.  As  Wagner  himself  tells  us,  in  his 
"Final  Report"  on  the  preparation  of  these  dramas 
(Ellis's  translation.  Vol.  V,,  p.  310): 

"Now  that  I  and  my  usual  projed;  had  been  placed  in  broad  day- 
light, it  really  appeared  as  if  all  the  ill  will  that  had  lurked  before  in 
ambush  was  determined  to  make  an  open  attack  in  full  force.  Indeed, 
it  seemed  as  though  no  single  interest,  of  all  those  represented  by  our 
press  and  our  society,  was  not  stung  to  the  quick  by  the  composition 
and  plan  of  production  of  my  work.  To  stay  the  disgraceful  direction 
taken  by  this  feud  in  every  circle  of  society,  which  recklessly  assailed 
alike  protector  and  protected,  I  could  but  decide  to  strip  the  scheme 
of  that  majestic  character  which  my  patron  had  accorded  it,  and  turn 
it  into  a  channel  less  provocative  of  universal  wrath.  Indeed,  I  even 
tried  to  divert  public  attention  from  the  whole  affair  by  spending  a 
little  hard-won  rest  on  the  completion  of  the  score  of  my  '  Meister- 
singer,'  a  work  with  which  I  should  not  appear  to  be  quitting  the 
customary  groove  of  performances  at  the  theatre." 


130  Richard  Wagner 

It  may  not  be  out  of  place  to  add  here  that  calumny 
pursued  him  after  his  retirement  from  Munich,  and 
one  of  the  most  interesting  stories  was  that  he  had 
left  his  wife  to  starve.  To  this  falsehood  the  unhappy 
Minna  replied  with  great  dignity  and  a  touch  of  pathos 
in  a  statement  published  in  January,  1866,  a  fortnight 
before  her  death.     She  said: 

"The  malicious  reports  which  certain  Vienna  and  Munich  papers 
have  been  publishing  for  some  time  concerning  my  husband  compel 
me  to  declare  that  1  have  received  from  him  up  to  date  a  pension 
which  amply  suffices  for  my  support.  I  seize  this  opportunity  with 
so  much  the  more  pleasure  since  it  enables  me  to  destroy  at  least 
one  of  the  many  calumnies  which  people  are  pleased  to  launch 
against  my  husband." 

This  statement  is  indisputable  evidence  that  there 
was  no  harsh  feeling  in  the  heart  of  the  wife  who  had 
parted  from  him. 

Mme.  von  Bulow  with  her  children  joined  Wagner 
at  Triebschen,  while  Hans  was  obliged  to  go  to  Basle 
to  teach.  In  his  place  he  left  Hans  Richter,  who  thus 
became  intimately  associated  with  the  creative  work 
of  Wagner.  The  separation  between  Von  Biilow  and 
his  wife  proved  to  be  final,  and  the  daughter  of  Liszt 
imitated  her  illustrious  father  by  recognising  the  su- 
premacy of  the  claims  of  love  over  all  other  obliga- 
tions. In  1866  the  public  feeling  against  Wagner  had 
somewhat  declined,  and  the  King  decided  to  have 
model  performances  of  "  Tannhauser"  and  "Lohen- 
grin "  at  Munich.  Von  Bulow  was  made  Kapellmeis- 
ter and  devoted  himself,  heart  and  soul,  to  the 
preparations  for  these  performances.  In  March,  1867, 
Wagner  went  to  Munich  to  supervise  some  of  the  re- 
hearsals, and  again  he  visited  the  capital  in  May  for 


Some  Ideals  Realised  131 

the  same  purpose.  A  general  rehearsal  took  place  on 
June  I  ith,  and  everything  went  to  the  satisfaction  of 
the  master. 

To  his  intense  surprise,  the  next  day  the  King  sent 
away  Tichatschek  and  Mme.  Bertram-Mayer,  who  had 
been  especially  engaged,  and  announced  that  their 
places  would  be  taken  by  Heinrich  Vogl  and  Therese 
Thoma,  afterward  his  wife.  This  was  the  result  of  a 
new  intrigue  against  Wagner,  and  he,  despairing  of  a 
perfect  performance  in  these  conditions,  at  once  left 
the  city.  The  first  of  these  "model"  performances 
took  place  on  June  16  and  was  successful  in  spite  of 
the  sudden  changes.  But  it  was  not  what  Wagner 
would  have  called  an  ideal  performance,  and  some  of 
the  customary  cuts  were  made.  Despite  the  con- 
tinued opposition  to  Wagner  the  King  retained  his 
love  for  the  "  music  of  the  future,"  and  he  determined 
that  "Die  Meistersinger  "  should  be  produced  in  the 
year  1868.  Public  feeling  against  Wagner  still  further 
diminished,  and  he  was  able  to  visit  Munich  frequently 
to  superintend  the  rehearsals,  which  were  under  the 
direction  of  Von  Bulow  as  conductor  and  Richter  as 
chorus  master.  The  best  obtainable  artists  in  Ger- 
many were  secured,  and  no  pains  were  spared  in  the 
preparation  of  the  troublesome  but  essential  details  of 
nuance  and  stage  business.  On  June  21,  1868,  the 
opera  was  produced,  and  its  success  was  most  de- 
cided. 

And  now  Wagner  returned  to  his  magnum  opus, 
"  Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen."  But  the  King  could  not 
wait.  He  was  eager  to  hear  at  least  a  part  of  it,  and 
so  he  gave  orders  that  "  Das  Rheingold  "  should  be 
prepared.     Again  there  were   troubles  of  all   kinds. 


132  Richard  Wagner 

The  composer's  directions  were  so  inadequately  fol- 
lowed that  the  machinery  for  the  first  scene  was 
almost  worthless.  Richter,  who  had  succeeded  Von 
Biilow  as  Kapellmeister,  was  so  displeased  with  the 
preparations  that  he  refused  to  conduct,  and  finally 
Franz  Wullner  was  secured  in  his  place.  After  sev- 
eral postponements  the  work  was  produced  in  a 
bungling  style  on  Sept.  22,  1869.  Wagner  made  a 
feeble  effort  to  save  the  performance  from  disaster, 
but  the  result  was  practically  a  fiasco.  The  King, 
however,  was  bound  to  hear  more  of  the  trilogy,  and 
accordingly,  on  June  26,  1870,  "Die  Walkiire"  was 
performed,  the  Vogls  appearing  as  the  lovers.  The 
audience  was  somewhat  better  pleased  with  this  work 
than  with  the  "Rheingold,"  but  the  production  could 
not  be  called  a  success.  These  performances  were 
premature,  and  they  may  be  said  to  have  flashed  in 
the  pan. 

It  was  at  this  period  that  an  event  occurred  which 
Wagner's  friends  had  for  some  time  expected.  The 
marriage  of  Cosima  Liszt  and  Hans  von  Billow  had 
not  been  happy,  and  the  estrangement  between  them 
was  accelerated  by  the  woman's  quick  conception  of 
a  passion  for  Wagner.  When  Von  Bulow  went  to 
Basle  to  teach,  the  beginning  of  the  end  had  come, 
and  it  was  not  long  after  that  when  the  relations  be- 
tween Wagner  and  Mme.  von  Bulow  could  no  longer 
be  kept  secret.  "If  it  were  only  someone  whom  I 
could  kill,"  said  Von  Billow,  "he  would  have  been 
dead  before  this."  The  great  conductor  could  not 
think  of  slaying  the  great  master.  In  the  autumn  of 
1869  the  Von  Bulows  were  divorced.  *In  July,  1870. 
Wagner  wrote  to  Praeger: 


Some  Ideals  Realised  133 

"  My  dear  Ferdinand,  you  will  no  doubt  be  angry  witli  me  when 
you  hear  that  I  am  soon  to  marry  Billow's  wife,  who  has  become  a 
convert  in  order  to  be  divorced." 

A  little  later  Praeger  received  the  wedding  cards 
announcing  that  they  had  been  married  on  Aug.  25  at 
the  Protestant  Church  of  Lucerne.  The  attitude  of 
Liszt  toward  this  union  may  be  understood  from  Wag- 
ner's statement  that  he  was  more  annoyed  by  his 
daughter's  change  of  religion  than  by  her  divorce. 
That  the  divorce  and  the  marriage  had  to  come  about, 
however,  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that  in  the 
summer  of  1869  Mme.  von  Bulow  had  borne  to  Wag- 
ner a  son.*  The  existence  of  this  child  was  first  defin- 
itely mentioned  by  Wagner  in  a  letter  to  the  Zurich 
friend,  Mme.  Wille,  dated  June  25,  1870,  accepting  an 
invitation  to  visit  her,  but  deferring  the  date  till  he 
and  Mme.  von  Bulow  could  go  as  man  and  wife.  In 
November  of  the  same  year  Wagner  wrote  to  Praeger, 
and  closed  the  letter  with  these  words: 

"  Often  do  I  now  think  of  you  because  of  your  love  for  children. 
My  house,  too,  is  full  of  children,  the  children  of  my  wife,  but  beside 
there  blooms  for  me  a  splendid  son,  strong  and  beautiful,  whom  I 
dare  call  Siegfried  Richard  Wagner.  Now  think  what  I  must  feel 
that  this  at  last  has  fallen  to  my  share.  1  am  fifty-seven  years 
old." 

Cosima  Wagner  was  twenty-nine  years  old  at  the 
time  of  her  marriage  to  the  composer.     Many  foolish 

*  The  date  of  Siegfried  Wagner's  birth  has  never  been  made  known 
by  the  Wagner  family.  In  his  chronological  table  of  the  incidents  of 
Wagner's  life,  Houston  Stewart  Chamberlain  notes,  in  the  year  1869, 
"Siegfried  Wagner  born  on  June  6  of  the  marriage  with  Cosima 
Liszt."  In  spite  of  the  direct  and  the  indirect  falsehoods  contained  in 
this  note,  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  the  date  is  correct. 


134  Richard  Wagner 

stories  have  been  told  of  her  coming  between  him  and 
his  first  wife.  The  reader  of  this  volume  can  see  for 
himself  that  there  is  not  the  slightest  foundation  for 
these  tales.  The  facts  of  the  divorce  and  marriage 
may  be  permitted  to  stand  without  comment.  But  it 
should  be  said  that  Cosima  Wagner  gave  to  her  hus- 
band a  loyalty,  a  devotion,  and  a  sympathetic  com- 
prehension which  made  him  a  wholly  happy  man  in 
his  domestic  life.  In  1871  Wagner  composed,  in 
honour  of  the  child  and  to  celebrate  his  wife's  birth- 
day, the  popular  "Siegfried  Idyll."  Richter  gathered 
the  necessary  musicians  at  Lucerne  and  rehearsed  the 
piece,  and  at  the  proper  time  performed  it  on  the 
stairs  of  the  villa  at  Triebschen,  to  the  surprise  and 
joy  of  Mme.  Wagner.  The  leading  themes  of  the 
composition  are  taken  from  "Siegfried"  and  are  com- 
bined with  an  old  German  cradle-song. 

In  1870  Wagner  published  two  important  prose 
works,  "On  Conducting"  and  "Beethoven."  The 
former  arraigns  the  mechanical  Kapellmeisters  of  Ger- 
many in  good  round  terms,  and  sets  forth  Wagner's 
ideas  as  to  the  proper  manner  of  directing  the  per- 
formance of  the  classic  orchestral  works.  It  is  an  elo- 
quent and  instructive  little  book,  and  should  be  read 
by  all  music-lovers.  The  study  of  Beethoven  is  less 
clear  in  style  and  dips  into  metaphysical  discussion, 
but  it  contains  artistic  views  of  high  dignity.  In  1871 
the  composer  wrote  the  familiar  "  Kaisermarsch,"  in- 
tending it  as  a  musical  celebration  of  Germany's  tri- 
umph in  the  conflict  with  France.  It  may  be  noted 
that  the  Emperor  accorded  to  this  attention  the  very 
scantest  courtesy.  We  have  now  reached  the  period 
when  Wagner  left  Munich  for  Bayreuth.     The  time 


Some  Ideals  Realised  135 

was  approaching  when  the  great  Nibelung  drama 
must  be  launched  in  its  entirety.  The  plan  to  build  a 
theatre  for  it  in  Munich  had,  as  we  have  seen,  fallen 
through.  A  new  site  had  to  be  found  and  new  plans 
to  be  adopted  for  bringing  to  a  successful  issue  the 
most  formidable  theatrical  project  of  the  century. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

FINIS   CORONAT   OPUS 

"  VoUendet  das  ewige  Werk: 
Auf  Berges  Gipfel 
Die  Gotter-Burg, 
PrunkvoII  prahlt 
Der  prangende  Bau  !  " 

Rheingold 

It  was  in  April,  1872,  that  Wagner  went  to  Bayreuth 
to  live.  He  at  first  occupied  rooms  in  the  small  hotel 
belonging  to  the  Castle  Fantaisie,  in  the  village  of 
Donndorf,  an  hour's  ride  from  Bayreuth.  Subsequently 
he  moved  into  hired  apartments  in  the  town.  Mean- 
while a  new  home  for  him  was  in  process  of  erection, 
and  in  1874  he  and  his  family  took  possession  of  the 
Villa  Wahnfried,  where  his  widow  and  children  still 
live.  This  house  was  built  in  accordance  with  Wag- 
ner's own  ideas,  and  in  it  at  last  he  found  that  domes- 
tic peace  and  comfort  for  which  he  had  longed  through 
so  many  years  of  struggle.  But  the  theatre  and  the 
performance  of  the  Nibelung  drama  were  still  at  a  dis- 
tance. Work  on  the  "  Festspielhaus,"  as  it  is  called, 
was  in  progress,  but  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  its 
completion  seemed  wellnigh  insuperable.  Money, 
money,  was  still  the  cry.  The  history  of  the  incep- 
tion and  progress  of  the  Bayreuth  project  might  well 

136 


Finis  Coronat  Opus  137 

be  told  at  great  length,  but  it  must  be  narrated  as 
briefly  as  possible. 

Why  had  Wagner  selected  Bayreuth  as  the  scene  of 
the  crowning  labour  of  his  career  ?  Other  cities  in  Ger- 
many had  offered  him  inducements,  but  they  were 
precisely  the  sort  of  inducements  that  a  man  of  Wag- 
ner's artistic  ideas  could  not  appreciate.  He  could 
have  gone  to  cities  in  which  he  would  have  had  ready- 
made  publics  in  the  shape  of  summer  tourists  in  large 
numbers,  but  such  publics  he  did  not  desire.  He 
wished  to  bring  to  the  performance  of  his  magnum 
opus  an  assembly  gathered  for  no  other  object.  He 
desired  the  representations  to  take  place  where  they 
alone  would  be  the  moving  thought  in  the  public 
mind.  People  must  go  to  Bayreuth  solely  to  attend 
the  Wagner  performances,  and  thus  the  audience 
would  come  into  the  theatre  in  the  right  mood. 
Again,  Bayreuth  was  in  Bavaria,  and  Wagner  wished 
to  carry  out  in  the  dominion  of  his  royal  friend  the 
great  project  of  his  life. 

But  how  was  the  necessary  money  to  be  raised  ? 
Performances  of  the  older  works  brought  in  but  little, 
and  concerts  were  expensive.  At  this  juncture  Carl 
Tausig,  the  young  pianist,  conceived  a  plan,  which  he 
elaborated  with  the  aid  of  the  Baroness  Marie  von 
Schleinitz.  It  was  estimated  that  the  entire  expense 
of  preparing  and  performing  "  Der  Ring  des  Nibe- 
lungen  "  would  amount  to  about  300,000  thalers,  or 
$225,000.  The  plan  was  to  sell  1000  certificates  of 
membership  among  the  supporters  of  Wagner's  ideas. 
The  holder  of  one  certificate  was  to  be  entitled  to  a 
seat  at  each  of  the  three  series  of  performances.  Any 
person  could  buy  several  certificates,  and  three  might 


138  Richard  Wagner 

unite  in  the  purchase  of  one,  each  of  the  three  thus 
attending  one  series.  Tausig  had  other  ideas  in  his 
head  for  the  assistance  of  Wagner,  but  he  was  sud- 
denly carried  away  by  typhoid  fever  at  the  age  of 
thirty. 

Meanwhile  Emil  Meckel,  a  music  publisher  of  Mann- 
heim, had  proposed  the  formation  of  Wagner  socie- 
ties, and  had  organised  one  in  Mannheim,  in  June, 
1 87 1.  Heckel's  scheme  was  a  sort  of  lottery,  each 
member  paying  five  florins  and  being  entitled  to  one 
chance  in  a  patron's  certificate,  one  of  which  was 
bought  for  each  thirty-five  members.  The  society 
was  also  to  give  concerts  and  to  use  the  proceeds  in 
the  purchase  of  certificates.  The  Wagner  society  plan 
spread,  and  organisations  of  this  kind  were  formed  in 
leading  cities  in  Europe  and  America.  Wagner  busied 
himself  conducting  concerts  and  pushing  the  produc- 
tion of  his  works,  but  the  raising  of  the  funds  pro- 
ceeded very  slowly.  Nevertheless,  on  May  22,  1872, 
Wagner's  fifty-ninth  birthday,  the  corner-stone  of  the 
new  theatre  was  laid  with  appropriate  ceremonies. 
Burgomaster  Muncker,  from  whose  Life  of  Wagner 
quotations  have  been  made,  and  Frederick  Feustel,  a 
banker,  had,  as  the  heads  of  a  committee  of  the  citi- 
zens, presented  to  Wagner  a  site  for  the  edifice.  Nie- 
mann, Betz,  Friiulein  Lehmann,  and  Frau  Jachmann 
(nee  Wagner)  had  volunteered  to  sing.  Vocal  societies 
from  Leipsic  and  Berlin,  and  orchestral  players  from 
Vienna,  Leipsic,  Weimar,  and  other  cities  had  offered 
their  services.  And  so  Wagner  was  able  to  prepare 
one  of  those  ideal  performances  of  Beethoven's  Ninth 
Symphony  in  which  he  delighted.  The  concert  took 
place  in  the  old  opera  house  of  Bayreuth,  and  was  fol- 


Finis  Coronat  Opus  139 

lowed  by  the  laying  of  the  corner-stone.  The  band 
played  the  "  Huldigungsmarsch,"  while  Wagner 
struck  the  stone  three  times  with  a  hammer,  and  said, 
"Bless  this  stone!  May  it  stand  long  and  hold 
firmly."  King  Ludwig  telegraphed  his  congratula- 
tions. Rain  fell,  and  the  assembly  returned  to  the  old 
theatre  to  complete  the  ceremony.  Musicians  and 
singers,  the  Wagner  family,  the  composer,  the  burgo- 
master, and  others  were  grouped  on  the  stage.  The 
burgomaster  delivered  an  address  of  welcome,  and 
then  Wagner  read  a  fervent  speech.  At  the  close  of 
it  he  raised  his  hands  and  the  chorus  burst  into  the 
chorale  from  the  last  scene  of  "  Die  Meistersinger." 

The  air  was  full  of  hope,  yet  in  January,  1874, 
Wagner  had  to  tell  Meckel  that  he  was  about  to  an- 
nounce to  the  public  the  complete  collapse  of  the  Bay- 
reuth  scheme.  The  money  could  not  be  raised.  Once 
more  King  Ludwig  came  to  the  rescue,  with  a  contri- 
bution of  200,000  marks.  The  Viceroy  of  Egypt  gave 
$2,500,  and  404  patron's  certificates  had  been  sold  by 
July,  1875,  So  Wagner,  although  he  foresaw  a  heavy 
deficit,  announced  that  the  performances  would  take 
place  in  the  summer  of  1876. 

Meanwhile  he  travelled  about,  giving  concerts  and 
supervising  performances  of  his  older  works,  and 
adding  here  a  little  and  there  a  little  to  the  sum 
needed  for  carrying  out  his  plans.  Through  Theodore 
Thomas  he  at  this  time  received  $5000  for  the  com- 
position of  the  "Centennial  March,"  written  for  the 
opening  of  the  Centennial  Exposition  at  Philadelphia. 
This  is  Wagner's  poorest  music,  but  he  must  have 
been  very  glad  to  get  the  money,  and  we  Americans 
can  revel  in  the  trilogy  and  forget  the  march. 


HO  Richard  Wagner 

At  length,  in  August  of  1 876,  the  long-awaited  event 
took  place,  and  the  little  town  of  Bayreuth  awoke  one 
morning,  Byron-like,  to  find  itself  famous.  The  Em- 
perors of  Germany  and  Brazil,  the  King  of  Bavaria, 
the  Grand  Dukes  of  Weimar,  Baden,  and  Mecklenburg, 
Prince  Vladimir  of  Russia,  and  the  Prince  of  Hesse ; 
eminent  musicians  headed  by  Franz  Liszt,  Camille 
Saint-Saens,  and  Edward  Grieg;  critics  from  all  coun- 
tries, and  supporters  of  Wagner  from  all  over  Europe 
and  even  from  America,  crowded  into  the  town  to  hear 
this  new  thing  in  operatic  art,  this  "music  of  the 
future."  The  enemy,  too,  was  well  represented,  and 
the  glitter  of  the  critical  axe  was  seen  among  the 
flaunting  banners.  The  Emperor  of  Germany  arrived 
on  August  1 2th,  and  was  received  with  due  ceremony. 
He  stayed  for  only  two  of  the  first  series  of  perform- 
ances, but  Mr.  Finck  has  clearly  proved  that  he  went 
to  Bayreuth  with  that  intention,  and  was  not  driven 
away  by  the  music  as  some  of  Wagner's  opponents 
have  asserted. 

The  first  performance  took  place  on  August  13.  It 
was  to  begin  at  5  p.  m.,  but  was  postponed  till  7,  be- 
cause the  Emperor  of  Brazil  could  not  reach  the  city 
in  time  for  the  earlier  hour.  An  audience  of  wonder- 
ful composition  assembled  in  the  theatre,  after  the 
trumpeters  had  blown  a  motive  from  the  last  scene  to 
announce  that  the  performance  was  about  to  begin. 
The  first  impression  of  wonder  was  created  by  the 
darkening  of  the  auditorium,  it  being  part  of  Wagner's 
plan  that  the  attention  of  the  audience  should  thus  be 
centred  on  the  stage.  Then  came  the  surprising  effect 
of  the  concealed  orchestra,  playing  down  in  its  pit  be- 
tween the  stage  and  the  audience,  the  pit  fancifully 


Finis  Coronat  Opus  141 

christened  the  "Mystic  Gulf."  Such  a  rich,  homo- 
geneous instrumental  tone  was  new  to  all  the  hearers. 
The  curtain  rose,  and  the  depths  of  the  Rhine  were 
revealed.  The  audience  entered  a  new  world  of  oper- 
atic experience.  The  performance  moved  smoothly, 
except  that  some  of  the  stage  mechanism  was  defect- 
ive. Indeed,  the  hitch  in  the  passage  from  Scene  I. 
to  Scene  II.  drove  Wagner  out  of  the  theatre.  After 
the  performance  there  were  tumultuous  calls  for  Wag- 
ner and  the  artists,  but  no  one  responded. 

On  the  following  night  "  Die  Walkure"  was  given, 
but  owing  to  the  indisposition  of  Unger,  the  leading 
tenor,  "Siegfried"  had  to  be  postponed  till  August 

16.  "  Gotterdammerung  "  was  performed  on  August 

17.  The  third  and  fourth  works  of  the  series  were  on 
these  dates  heard  in  public  for  the  first  time.  After 
"Gotterdammerung"  the  audience  again  called  for 
the  composer  and  the  performers,  and  now  Wagner 
appeared  and  made  a  brief  speech  of  thanks  and  pro- 
misefor  the  future.  The  curtains  were  drawn  aside  and 
all  the  artists  were  seen.  When  the  three  series  of 
performances  had  been  completed  there  was  a  ban- 
quet, at  which  Wagner  further  explained  his  hopes 
for  the  coming  years,  and  at  which  he  paid  a  warm 
tribute  of  gratitude  to  his  first  friend  and  helper,  Liszt. 

Thus  was  finally  brought  to  representation  the  great 
tetralogy,  on  which  Wagner  had  worked  more  than  a 
quarter  of  a  century,  and  which  was,  without  doubt, 
the  chief  labour  of  his  life.  From  1848  his  mind  had 
been  filled  with  the  story  of  "  Siegfried."  He  had  laid 
it  aside  from  time  to  time  to  produce  other  works,  but 
it  had  been  the  chief  aim  of  his  existence.  Early  in  his 
labours  on  it  he  had  discovered  that  the  narration  would 


142  Richard  Wagner 

require  the  building  of  a  tetralogy,  and  he  had  also 
foreseen  that  a  special  theatre  must  be  built.  No  play- 
wright or  composer  had  ever  before  entertained  such 
a  project,  and  now  at  last  it  was  accomplished.  The 
critics  departed  in  a  state  of  confusion,  as  well  they 
might,  having  been  called  upon  to  face  an  art  utterly 
unknown,  and  brought  before  them  in  a  condition  of 
complete  development.  That  their  comments  showed 
an  almost  total  failure  to  understand  what  Wagner 
had  attempted  was  natural.  If  they  had  understood 
him,  they  would  have  been  men  of  genius  themselves. 
Some  men  of  genius  did  understand  him,  and  that 
was  his  highest  reward.  The  musical  world  was  rent 
asunder  with  arguments  for  and  against  the  new  art, 
but  Wagner  had  at  least  lived  to  see  one  dream  of  his 
life  realised. 

Some  description  of  the  Festspielhaus  must  be  in- 
cluded at  this  point.  The  theatre  occupies  an  isolated 
position  on  a  slight  eminence  about  fifteen  minutes' 
walk  from  the  town.  The  portion  containing  the 
auditorium  is  small,  and  about  half  as  high  as  that 
containing  the  stage.  Two  stages,  one  above  the 
other,  are  used,  so  that  while  one  scene  is  before  the 
audience  the  other  is  preparing  in  the  cellar.  This 
device  was  made  known  to  New  Yorkers  in  the 
Madison  Square  Theatre,  where  the  famous  double 
stage  of  Steele  Mackaye  was  for  a  time  the  talk  of  the 
town.  Wagner's  plan  was  older  than  Mr.  Mackaye's. 
The  Festspielhaus  proscenium  is  extremely  plain,  and 
is  so  contrived  that  it  creates  an  illusion  as  to  the  dis- 
tance between  the  audience  and  the  stage.  No 
prompter's  box  and  no  footlights  are  visible  to  the 
spectators.     In  front  of  the  stage  and  running  partly 


Finis  Coronat  Opus  143 

under  it  is  the  pit  for  the  orchestra,  so  arranged  that 
the  musicians  are  wholly  unseen  by  the  audience,  and 
the  conductor  is  visible  only  to  the  singers. 

The  auditorium  itself  is  small  and  rigorously  plain. 
The  parquet  seats  1300  persons.  Above  the  last  row 
of  seats,  and  extending  all  the  way  across  the  rear  of 
the  auditorium,  is  a  gallery,  containing  nine  boxes  for 
the  use  of  titled  visitors.  Above  this  gallery  is  a  sec- 
ond one  containing  200  seats.  The  seating  capacity 
of  the  entire  theatre  is  about  1500  The  parquet  seats 
are  arranged  in  easy  curves,  so  that  every  person  faces 
the  stage  and  has  a  perfect  view.  There  are  no  side 
seats  and  no  proscenium  boxes.  The  sides  of  the 
auditorium  are  finished  with  Renaissance  columns; 
and  sixteen  wide  passages,  eight  on  each  side,  give 
easy  egress  from  the  house.  There  are  no  chandeliers. 
The  lighting  outfit  of  the  auditorium  is  just  sufficient 
to  enable  the  audience  to  find  its  way  about.  While 
the  performance  is  going  on,  all  lights  in  front  of  the 
stage  are  extinguished.  The  entire  aim  of  the  plan 
of  this  house  is  to  remove  everything  which  can  sug- 
gest the  conventional  theatre,  and  to  concentrate  the 
attention  of  the  audience  on  the  stage. 

Wagner's  principal  assistant  in  the  building  of  this 
theatre  was  Karl  Brandt,  of  Darmstadt,  with  whom 
he  consulted  in  regard  to  everything.  The  architect, 
engaged  on  Brandt's  advice,  was  Otto  Bruckwald,  of 
Leipsic.  The  scenery  for  the  Ring  dramas  was  de- 
signed by  Prof.  Joseph  Hoffmann,  of  Vienna,  and 
painted  by  the  Brothers  Bruckner,  of  Coburg.  These 
are  the  men  to  whom  Wagner  expressed  himself  as 
especially  indebted  for  aid  in  carrying  out  his  ideas. 
Of   the     performers    engaged    in     this    remarkable 


144  Richard  Wagner 

undertaking  mention  will  be  made  in  the  study  of 
the  dramas,  which  will  form  a  separate  part  of  this 
work. 

The  first  Bayreuth  festival  resulted  in  a  deficit  of 
$37,000.  And  so  Wagner,  with  the  artistic  dream  of 
his  life  realised,  found  himself  once  more  the  victim 
of  monetary  embarrassments.  He  went  into  Italy  for 
a  little  rest,  and  was  received  with  distinction  in  sev- 
eral cities.  The  violinist  Wilhelmj,  who  had  been 
concertmeister  of  the  festival  orchestra,  suggested  that 
a  series  of  concerts  in  London  would  go  far  toward 
raising  the  money  needed  to  meet  the  deficit.  Several 
of  the  Bayeruth  singers  were  secured,  and  the  concerts 
were  announced  for  May  7  to  19,  1877.  Wagner 
conducted  one  half  of  each  concert  and  Richter  the 
other  half.  This  was  the  beginning  of  Richter's  great 
vogue  as  a  conductor  in  London.  The  concerts  were 
a  failure,  and  two  supplementary  entertainments  at 
popular  prices  were  given  in  order  to  help  the  situa- 
tion. But  Wagner  left  London  with  his  affairs  still  in 
a  bad  condition.  The  London  visit  was  notable  for 
the  fact  that  on  May  17  he  read  the  poem  of  his  new 
drama,  "  Parsifal,"  to  a  circle  of  friends  at  the  house 
of  Edward  Dannreuther.  He  read  the  same  work  to 
German  friends  at  Heidelberg  on  July  8,  while  on  his 
way  back  to  Bayreuth. 

The  financial  difficulties  were  finally  solved  by  the 
disposal  to  Munich  of  the  rights  of  performance  of  the 
"  Ring."  Wagner  had  said  that  the  work  really  be- 
longed to  the  King,  who  had  agreed  to  pay  him  a 
pension  on  condition  that  he  should  complete  and 
produce  the  work.  The  Intendant  of  the  Munich 
Opera  House  saw  in  the  deficit  at  Bayreuth  his  oppor- 


Finis  Coronat  Opus  145 

tunity  to  acquire  the  right  to  perform  the  work.  He 
agreed  to  pay  the  deficit  provided  the  royal  right  to 
"  Der  Ring"  be  enforced  for  the  benefit  of  the  Munich 
theatre.  Wagner  was  obliged  to  accept  this  solution 
of  his  difficulties,  and  thus  Bayreuth  lost  the  sole  right 
to  the  tetralogy.  The  dramas  of  the  "Ring"  now 
began  to  be  played  separately,  much  to  Wagner's  dis- 
pleasure, but  they  grew  in  popularity,  and  the  royal- 
ties were  good  to  have.  Angelo  Neumann  organised 
his  travelling  Nibelung  Theatre,  with  several  of  the 
Bayreuth  artists  and  Anton  Seidl  as  conductor,  and 
gave  complete  performances,  except  for  cuts  author- 
ised by  Wagner,  in  many  cities  of  Germany  and  Italy. 
Meanwhile  Wagner  was  engaged  in  completing  what 
was  to  be  his  last  work.  He  had  conceived  it  in 
1865,  but  had  found  no  opportunity  to  do  more  than 
write  the  book.  His  health  was  not  of  the  best,  and 
he  was  eager  to  retire  to  the  seclusion  of  Wahnfried 
and  finish  his  drama.  The  settlement  of  the  pecuni- 
ary troubles  arising  from  the  first  festival  enabled  him 
to  carry  out  his  project.  He  was  to  write  one  more 
work,  filled  with  ecstatic  piety,  and  then  go  to  his 
rest. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE   LAST   DRAMA 
"  AUes  wird  mir  nun  frei." — Gotterdammerung 

In  the  fall  of  1877  Wagner's  mind  was  occupied 
with  a  plan  to  found  at  Bayreuth  a  music  school  simi- 
lar in  plan  to  that  which  he  had  once  hoped  to  have 
in  Munich.  Delagates  from  the  Wagner  societies 
were  invited  to  the  city  to  consider  the  project,  but 
they,  alarmed  by  the  large  deficit  remaining  from  the 
festival  of  1876,  declined  to  further  the  scheme.  At 
this  gathering  of  delegates  the  various  societies  were 
reorganised  into  one  general  association,  having  its 
headquarters  at  Bayreuth ;  and  that  the  members  and 
the  other  sympathisers  with  his  aims  might  have 
some  definite  object  before  them,  Wagner  announced 
that  subscriptions  would  apply  to  the  production  of 
his  new  work,  "  Parsifal."  It  was  at  this  time  his 
purpose  to  produce  this  drama  in  1880,  but  various 
causes,  including  poor  health,  combined  to  prevent 
the  fulfilment  of  this  intention.  Naturally  the  lack 
of  funds  was  a  prime  cause  for  the  postponement. 
Wagner  announced  the  change  of  date  in  a  communi- 
cation to  his  subscribers,  dated  Bayreuth,  July  15, 
1879. 

Meanwhile  a  new  medium  of  making  known  his 
146 


The  Last  Drama  147 

plans  and  ideas  had  been  found.  In  January,  1878, 
appeared  the  first  number  of  a  monthly  periodical 
called  the  Bayreuther  Blatter,  edited  by  Hans  von 
Wolzogen,  who  is  now  known  to  all  students  of 
Wagner's  scores  as  the  author  of  handbooks  explain- 
ing the  leading  motives  of  the  music.  Wagner  him- 
self was  an  active  contributor  to  this  journal,  and 
wrote  some  of  his  most  interesting  papers  for  it. 
IVleanwhile  he  worked  assiduously  at  the  music  of 
"Parsifal."  That  he  did  not  finish  it  till  the  begin- 
ning of  1882  was  due  to  a  variety  of  causes,  among 
which  was  a  fresh  outbreak  of  his  old  enemy,  erysip- 
elas. This  sent  him,  in  the  last  days  of  1879,  into 
southern  Italy  in  search  of  relief.  He  was  not  in  a 
sanguine  temper  at  this  time,  and  he  wrote  for  the 
opening  of  1880  a  querulous  article,  showing  that  he 
still  felt  the  hostility  of  criticism  and  the  inability  of 
the  public  to  comprehend  his  artistic  purposes.  He 
said  : 

"  Nothing,  in  fact,  seems  farther  from  our  public  situation  of  the  day 
than  the  founding  of  an  artistic  institution  whose  use,  nay,  whose 
whole  meaning,  is  understood  of  the  veriest  minority.  Indeed  I  be- 
lieve I  have  done  my  best  to  state  both  things  distinctly  :  but  who 
has  yet  heeded  ?  An  influential  member  of  the  Reichstag  assured 
me  that  neither  he  nor  any  of  his  colleagues  had  the  faintest  notion  of 
what  1  want.  And  yet,  to  further  my  ideas  1  can  think  only  of  such 
as  know  absolutely  nothing  of  our  art,  but  devote  themselves  to  poli- 
tics, trade,  or  business  ;  for  here  a  ray  may  sometimes  strike  an  open 
mind,  whereas  among  those  interested  in  our  present  art  I  fancy 
1  might  seek  such  a  mind  in  vain.  There  reigns  the  obstinate  belief 
that  art  is  but  a  me'tier,  its  object  to  feed  its  practitioner  ;  the  highest- 
placed  Court  theatre  Intendant  never  gets  beyond  that,  and  conse- 
quently it  does  not  occur  to  the  State  to  mix  itself  in  things  that  rank 
with  the  regulation  of  commerce.  There  one  swears  by  Fra  Diavolo's 
'  Long  live  art ;  above  all,  the  lady  artists,'  and  sends  for  Patti." 


148  Richard  Wagner 

To  the  casual  observer  Wagner  at  this  period  proba- 
bly seemed  to  have  reason  to  be  well  pleased  with  his 
life.  He  was  rid  of  the  burden  of  the  deficit  remain- 
ing after  the  "  Ring  "  performances,  he  had  a  beautiful 
home,  a  devoted  wife,  and  was  surrounded  by  friends 
who  gave  him  that  ceaseless  praise  for  which  his 
heart  ever  hungered.  But  Wagner  could  not  forgive 
the  world  for  not  taking  him  at  his  own  valuation. 
He  resented  Germany's  reluctance  to  accept  the  new 
gospel  of  art  which  he  preached.  Nevertheless  he 
laboured  away  at  the  score  of  "Parsifal,"  drifting  off 
into  that  religious  mysticism  which  has  affected  so 
many  composers  in  their  old  age,  and  at  the  same 
time  realising  that  now  at  last  he  was  writing  some- 
thing which  would  not  be  practicable  outside  of 
the  secluded  auditorium  of  Bayreuth.  Fragments  of 
the  work  were  scored  from  time  to  time,  and  at  the 
Wahnfried  Christmas  festival  of  1878  the  prelude  was 
performed  by  the  Meiningen  Court  Orchestra.  But  it 
was  not  till  after  the  trip  to  Italy  that  he  was  ready  to 
begin  active  preparations  for  the  performance  of  the 
drama.  The  piano  rehearsals  were  begun  in  August, 
1 88 1.  But  in  the  winter  of  1881-82  bad  health  again 
sent  Wagner  south,  and  he  completed  his  score  in 
January  in  Palermo. 

He  returned  to  Bayreuth  in  May.  The  subscriptions 
for  the  "  Parsifal "  production  arrived  very  slowly,  and 
at  the  close  of  1881  the  amount  subscribed  was  still 
lamentably  small,  but  once  more  King  Ludwig  came 
to  the  rescue.  He  offered  Wagner  the  use  of  the 
forces  of  the  Munich  Opera  House,  in  return  for  which 
that  theatre  acquired  the  exclusive  right  to  the  per- 
formance of    "Die  Feen."    Nevertheless  in  the  end 


The  Last  Drama  149 

Wagner  was  compelled,  in  order  to  meet  all  expenses, 
to  abandon  his  plan  of  giving  the  performances  for  his 
subscribers  alone.  The  first  two  performances  were 
exclusive,  but  the  general  public  was  admitted  to  the 
others  with  the  happiest  results. 

The  final  rehearsals  began  with  July,  1882,  and  the 
first  performance  was  given  on  July  26.  Fifteen 
other  performances  were  given,  the  last  on  Aug.  29. 
The  production  engaged  the  services  of  a  number  of 
the  best  singers  in  Germany,  many  distinguished 
principals  consenting  to  take  small  parts.  The  scenery 
and  stage  effects  again  commanded  high  praise,  and 
Wagner's  skill  as  a  designer  of  stage  pictures  was 
conceded  even  by  those  who  refused  to  allow  him 
genius  as  a  dramatist.  Again,  too,  there  was  an  un- 
fortunate hitch  in  the  mechanical  devices.  The  pano- 
rama in  the  first  act,  showing  the  country  through 
which  Gurnemanz  and  Parsifal  pass  on  their  way 
to  the  castle  of  Monsalvat,  was  mistakenly  con- 
structed to  move  half  as  fast  as  it  should  have  moved, 
and  as  there  was  not  time  after  the  discovery  of  the 
error  to  rectify  it,  Wagner  had  to  have  the  music  of 
the  scene  played  through  twice.  But  the  solemn 
drama  created  a  profound  impression,  and  many  of 
the  critics  who  had  found  little  to  please  them  in  the 
"Ring"  admitted  that  "Parsifal"  exercised  a  potent 
spell  on  their  minds. 

The  exertions  necessary  for  the  production  of 
"Parsifal"  had  told  severely  on  Wagner.  It  is  said 
that  at  one  rehearsal  he  fainted,  and,  on  recovering, 
exclaimed,  "Once  more  1  have  beaten  Death."  Dr. 
Standthartner,  one  of  his  firm  Viennese  friends,  ex- 
amined him  in  the  course  of  the  summer,  and  found 


150  Richard  Wagner 

that  a  heart  affection,  from  which  the  composer  had 
long  been  suffering,  had  made  dangerous  progress. 
Wagner  was  not  told  of  his  exact  condition,  but  he 
was  warned  that  immediate  rest  and  relief  from  care 
was  absolutely  essential.  He  was  a  man  of  sixty-nine 
and  he  had  done  an  enormous  amount  of  work. 
Furthermore  he  had  taxed  the  resources  of  his  system 
by  indulgence  in  passionate  moods,  which  were 
naturally  followed  by  periods  of  intense  depression. 

After  the  "  Parsifal  "  performance  he  went  with  his 
family  to  Venice,  where  he  took  up  his  residence  in 
the  Vendramin  F'alace  on  the  Grand  Canal.  The 
household  consisted  of  Wagner,  his  wife,  Siegfried, 
the  Count  Gravina  and  his  wife  (daughter  of  Von 
Bulow),  her  sisters,  Liszt,  and  the  Russian  painter 
Joukowsky,  who  had  designed  the  scenery  of  "  Par- 
sifal." Perl*  gives  a  most  interesting  account  of  the 
domestic  life  of  the  family  in  the  last  days  of  the 
master's  life.  He  lived  in  the  greatest  seclusion,  re- 
ceiving no  visitors  and  making  almost  no  calls.  He 
arose  early  and  occupied  himself  with  writing,  no 
one  being  allowed  to  disturb  him  while  so  engaged. 
The  products  of  his  pen  were  chiefly  articles  for  the 
Bayreuther  Blatier.  About  noon  his  wife  joined  him 
and  gave  him  the  substance  of  the  morning's  mail, 
sedulously  concealing  anything  which  might  excite 
him.  In  the  afternoon,  after  a  nap,  he  went  out  with 
his  family,  if  the  weather  was  pleasant,  in  a  gondola, 
and  frequently  made  excursions  of  some  length.  In 
the  evening  the  old  palace  (it  was  built  in  1481)  was 
brilliantly  lighted  up,  and  Wagner  listened  to  one  of 
his  family  reading  aloud. 

*"  Richard  Wagner  in  Venice,"  by  Henry  Perl.     Augsburg,  1883. 


The  Last  Drama  151 

Liszt  arrived  in  the  middle  of  November,  and  Wag- 
ner began  to  be  reminiscent.  He  suddenly  remem- 
bered his  juvenile  symphony,  and  decided  that  on 
Christmas,  1882,  it  should  be  performed,  not  as  a 
Christmas  festivity,  but  in  honour  of  his  wife,  whose 
birthday  was  Dec.  25.  The  concert-room  and  or- 
chestra of  the  Liceo  Benedetto  Marcello  were  lent  to 
him  for  the  purpose,  and  he  rehearsed  the  composition 
himself  with  the  greatest  ardour.  Wagner  afterward 
wrote  a  report  on  the  performance  of  this  youthful 
work,  which  he  said  went  extremely  well,  owing  to 
the  natural  disposition  of  the  Italian  musicians  for  tone 
and  phrasing,  and  also  owing  to  the  large  number  of 
rehearsals  which  he  was  able  to  have.  The  sym- 
phony, too,  "really  seemed  to  please,"  and  some 
Italian  critics  spoke  well  of  it.  Wagner  himself  did 
not  overrate  his  boyish  composition,  but  its  revival 
was  a  pleasant  occasion.  At  the  end  of  the  perform- 
ance Wagner  laid  down  the  baton  and  declared  that 
he  would  never  conduct  again.  He  had  felt  the  strain 
of  the  physical  effort.  But  his  words,  read  in  the 
light  of  subsequent  events,  acquired  that  appearance 
of  prophecy  which  men's  latest  utterances  so  often 
gain  from  their  propinquity  to  the  end. 

Dyspepsia  had  tortured  him  for  years,  and  the 
irregularities  of  digestion  had  finally  developed  the 
heart  affection,  before  mentioned,  to  a  serious  con- 
dition. Wagner  was  attended  in  Venice  by  Friedrich 
Keppler,  but  he  disobeyed  the  physician's  directions 
constantly.  He  was  especially  careless  about  exertion, 
and  was  not  wholly  observant  of  the  necessary  caution 
in  the  matter  of  eating.  He  fell  faint  several  times  in 
the  course  of  the  winter,  but  always  strove  to  conceal 


152  Richard  Wagner 

the  fact  from  his  family.  After  Liszt's  departure  on 
Jan.  15  he  became  even  more  careless,  and  entered 
with  great  avidity  into  the  preparations  for  the  Bay- 
reuth  festival  of  the  following  summer.  On  Feb.  13, 
1883,  he  rested  till  late.  At  noon  he  called  the  maid, 
who  sat  outside  his  room,  and  ordered  a  light  lunch- 
eon. It  was  his  intention  to  go  out  in  his  gondola  at 
four.  Soon  after  the  luncheon  had  been  brought  the 
maid  heard  Wagner  call  for  her  in  a  faint  voice,  and 
running  into  the  room  found  him  in  agony.  "Call 
my  wife  and  the  doctor,"  he  said.  The  wife  reached 
his  side  in  time  to  witness  his  last  struggle.  When 
the  doctor  arrived  he  was  dead. 

King  Ludwig  sent  Adolf  Gross,  a  Bayreuth  banker, 
who  had  long  been  an  ardent  supporter  of  Wagner, 
to  Venice  as  his  representative.  Venice  offered  a 
public  funeral,  but  the  widow  declined  it.  Silently 
through  the  canals  on  Feb.  16  went  a  draped  gondola 
with  the  body.  A  special  mourning  car  carried  the 
remains  to  Bayreuth.  That  city  had  indeed  been 
stricken  in  the  loss  of  him  who  had  made  it  famous. 
At  the  railway  station  on  the  arrival  of  the  funeral 
train  a  public  ceremony  took  place.  After  Siegfried's 
funeral  march  had  been  played  Burgomaster  Muncker 
and  Banker  Feustel  spoke.  The  Bayreuth  Liederkranz 
sang  the  chorus  arranged  by  Wagner  for  the  burial  of 
Weber  in  Dresden.  The  funeral  procession  then 
moved  to  Wahnfried,  where  the  remains  of  the  poet- 
composer  were  interred. 

Feustel  had  said  in  his  speech  at  the  station  that 
Bayreuth's  most  dignified  tribute  to  the  memory  of 
the  dead  master  would  be  the  ' '  Parsifal  "  performances 
in  the  coming  summer.    These  were  given,  but  with- 


The  Last  Drama  153 

out  the  presence  of  the  widow.  She  secluded  herself 
even  from  Liszt,  her  father.  But  the  following  year 
she  took  up  the  task  of  continuing  the  festivals,  which 
have  lately  reflected  her  ideas  as  to  the  proper  method 
of  interpreting  her  husband's  masterpieces. 

What  embryonic  works  Wagner  left  is  not  known. 
He  had  written  an  extensive  autobiography,  but  his 
family  has  not  yet  seen  fit  to  publish  it.  Probably  it 
will  not  see  the  light  till  Cosima  is  laid  beside  him  in 
the  garden  of  Wahnfried.  The  rumour  that  he  left 
sketches  for  a  drama  on  a  Buddhistic  subject  rests  on 
slight  foundation.  The  materials  for  this  drama,  "The 
Victors,"  were  absorbed  in  the  plan  of  "Parsifal." 
He  left  some  minor  prose  writings  which  are  included 
in  the  ten  volumes  of  his  works  and  which  may  be 
found  by  the  reader  of  English  in  the  last  volume  of 
Mr.  Ellis's  translation.  Gross,  the  Bayreuth  banker, 
guaranteed  the  "Parsifal"  performances  of  1883,  and 
superintended  the  settlement  of  the  dead  man's  finan- 
cial affairs.  The  consolidation  of  all  the  Wagner  soci- 
eties continued  the  work  of  supporting  the  festivals 
till  their  aid  was  no  longer  needed.  In  later  years  the 
receipts  from  the  festivals  and  the  royalties  from  the 
numerous  performances  of  Wagner's  works  have  en- 
abled his  family  to  live  in  luxury.  Siegfried  Wagner 
has  become  a  musician  and  a  composer.  He  shows 
no  evidence  of  inheriting  his  father's  genius,  but  he 
works  assiduously  and  with  effect  in  preparing  per- 
formances at  Bayreuth,  which,  in  spite  of  many 
changes,  continues  to  be  the  Mecca  of  all  worshippers 
of  Wagner's  genius. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  CHARACTER  OF  THE  MAN 

"Close  up  his  eyes  and  draw  the  curtains  close, 
And  let  us  all  to  meditation."     Henry  VI. 

"The  noble  and  kindly  man  as  his  friends  knew 
him,  and  the  aggressive  critic  and  reformer  address- 
ing the  public,  were  as  two  distinct  individuals." 
These  words  of  Edward  Dannreuther  are  the  explana- 
tion of  the  many  contradictory  reports  as  to  the  per- 
sonality of  Wagner.  Those  to  whom  he  opened  his 
inner  self,  to  whom  he  addressed  his  feelings  and  his 
hopes,  who,  in  a  word,  understood  him  as  both  man 
and  artist,  were  united  in  praise  of  his  personality. 
Liszt,  Praeger,  Uhlig,  Roeckel,  Fischer,  Von  Bulow, 
Judith  Gautier,  Baudelaire,  Frau  Wille — all  the  com- 
pany of  Wagner's  friends  and  helpers  loved  his  nature 
and  found  in  him  none  of  that  arrogance,  that  intoler- 
ance, that  insufferable  conceit,  which  the  unsympa- 
thetic outer  world  condemned.  With  his  friends, 
who  understood  the  purpose  of  his  life  and  the  aims 
of  his  ambition,  he  was  generally  in  a  state  of  spiritual 
relaxation,  and  was  simply  himself.  With  those  who 
failed  to  understand  him,  and  with  all  those  whom  he 
recognised  as  enemies  of  his  artistic  ideas,  he  never 
relaxed  the  spirit  of  determined  opposition  to  indolent 

154 


The  Character  of  the  Man        155 

and  slothful  conceptions  of  life  and  art  ;  and  with 
them  he  was  consequently  always  in  a  mood  of  hos- 
tility. To  such  he  was  rude,  discourteous,  and  intol- 
erant. His  nature  was  irritable,  and  even  his  friends 
had  to  endure  curt  and  hasty  speech  at  times.  To  his 
enemies  he  was  never  polite,  except  occasionally  in 
written  communication.  He  was  not  a  politic  man, 
for  he  was  too  nervous  in  habit  and  too  impulsive 
in  utterance.  He  possessed  the  gentle  art  of  making 
enemies  as  few  other  men  could,  yet  he  was  highly 
successful  in  gaining  friends,  and  those  whom  he  got 
he  kept.  His  early  Dresden  friends  were  always  his 
friends.  The  Zurich  coterie  adored  him  to  the  end. 
Those  who  were  intimately  associated  with  him  in 
Bayreuth  loved  and  reverenced  him.  Muncker,  the 
burgomaster  of  Bayreuth,  whose  book  was  translated 
into  curious  English  by  another  German,*  could  write 
thus  of  him  : 

"  With  passionate  warmth  he  was  beloved  by  numerous  friends  who 
for  a  lengthy  space  of  time  could  not  grasp  the  idea  of  his  death.  In 
a  full  measure  he  deserved  this  love.  He  was  a  man  as  good  as  he  was 
great.  In  his  nature  height  of  mind,  depth  of  feeling,  and  childlike 
amiability  v/ere  blended.  The  energetic  strength  of  his  will  was 
paired  with  heartfelt  mildness  ;  the  susceptibility  of  his  mood,  attribut- 
able to  his  many  adversities  and  to  his  heart  trouble,  with  an  unfail- 
ing and  sincere  desire  for  reconciliation  ;  tiie  seriousness  of  his  mind, 
which  in  social  intercourse  involuntarily  mastered  all,  with  an  inex- 
haustible love  for  jest  and  humour.  He  loved  and  was  mindful  for 
every  creature,  man  or  animal,  that  needed_  help  or  sympathy.  Coura- 
geous truthfulness  was  the  foundation  of  his  character.  Therefore  he 
was  simple  and  natural  in  his  demeanour  and  an  outspoken  enemy  of 
all  bombast.  He  was  proud,  but  modest  in  spite  of  his  consciousness 
of  what  he  desired,  knew,  and  accomplished.    As  his  memory  retained 

*  I  have  taken  the  liberty  of  changing  the  wording  of  the  translation 
in  two  places  where  the  meaning  was  obscure. 


156  Richard  Wagner 

alive  what  long  already  was  past,  so  he  thankfully  never  forgot  the 
good  that  others  had  done  him,  and  faithfully  clung  to  his  friends, 
even  if  time  and  space  separated  them  from  him.  Himself  clear  in  his 
thoughts  and  intentions,  he  demanded  the  same  clearness  in  those  who 
wished  to  associate  with  him." 

The  testimony  of  others  who  knew  Wagner  longer 
and  more  intimately  than  Muncker  is  in  a  similar  vein. 
It  is  difficult  in  the  face  of  such  evidence  to  accept  the 
assertions  of  those  contemporaries  who  saw  in  him 
only  the  narrowest  and  most  selfish  egotism.  That 
he  had  serious  faults  and  many  foibles  goes  without 
saying.  That  he  was  an  agreeable  companion  to  any 
one  not  absorbed  in  his  artistic  ideas  cannot  be  be- 
lieved. Geniuses,  self-centred  as  they  must  be,  de- 
voured day  and  night  by  passionate  yearning  for  the 
attainment  of  ideal  ends,  are  not  often  pleasant  ac- 
quaintances. Wagner  did  not  differ  from  other  great 
men.  People  who  were  uncongenial  to  him  have 
said  that  he  was  invariably  rude  and  overbearing. 
Edward  Dannreuther,  who  was  his  friend,  says:  "He 
had  no  pronounced  manners  in  the  sense  of  anything 
that  can  be  taught  or  acquired  by  imitation.  Always 
unconventional,  his  demeanour  showed  great  refine- 
ment. His  habits  in  private  life  are  best  described  as 
those  of  a  gentleman.  He  liked  domestic  comforts, 
had  an  artist's  fondess  for  rich  color,  harmonious  de- 
coration, out-of-the-way  furniture,  well-bound  books 
and  music,  etc." 

And  here  we  come  upon  one  of  the  traits  of  this 
singular  man,  which  has  properly  given  rise  to  the 
largest  amount  of  derogatory  comment.  He  certainly 
had  luxurious  tastes,  and  he  never  resisted  the  tempta- 
tion to  gratify  them  even  when  he  could  not  afford  to 


The  Character  of  the  Man        157 

do  so.  He  loved  fine  surroundings.  He  was  fond  of 
rich  garments,  especially  for  indoor  wear  during  his 
working  hours.  In  later  years,  when  his  worldly  po- 
sition had  improved  somewhat,  he  employed  an  ex- 
pensive Viennese  dressmaker  to  make  the  silken  robes 
which  he  wore  in  the  house.  He  sent  her  the  most 
elaborate  designs  for  his  dressing-gowns,  which  he 
seems  to  have  planned  with  fastidious  care.  He  paid 
her  absurd  prices  for  his  robes.  This  was  only  one 
form  of  Wagner's  extravagance.  He  wore  silk  un- 
derwear at  all  times,  and  Praeger  endeavours  to  show 
that  he  was  forced  to  do  this  in  order  to  diminish  as 
far  as  possible  the  irritability  of  his  skin  caused  by  the 
erysipelas,  of  which  he  was  a  lifelong  victim.  Wag- 
ner himself  realised  that  his  habits  were  luxurious,  but 
he  held  that  luxury  was  a  necessity  to  him.  He  knew 
that  he  would  be  blamed  for  taking  this  position,  and 
in  a  letter  of  1854  to  Liszt  he  wrote: 

"  How  can  I  expect  a  Philistine  to  comprehend  the 
transcendent  part  of  my  nature,  which  in  the  condi- 
tions of  my  life  impelled  me  to  satisfy  an  immense 
inner  desire  by  such  external  means  as  must  to  him  ap- 
pear dangerous  and  certainly  unsympathetic  ?  No  one 
knows  the  needs  of  people  like  us.  1  am  myself  fre- 
quently surprised  at  considering  so  many  '  useless ' 
things  indispensable."  Later  in  the  same  year  he 
wrote  a  letter  in  which  he  shows  plainly  how  his 
craving  for  luxurious  surroundings  as  an  aid  to  work 
affected  his  financial  affairs.     He  said: 

"  I  cannot  live  like  a  dog.  I  cannot  sleep  on  straw  and  drink  bad 
whiskey.  1  must  be  coaxed  in  one  way  or  another  if  my  mind  is  to 
accomplish  the  terribly  difficult  task  of  creating  a  non-existent  world. 
Well,  when  1  resumed  the  plan  of  the  '  Nibelungen '  and  its  actual 


158  Richard  Wagner 

execution,  many  things  had  to  co-operate  in  order  to  produce  in  me  the 
necessary,  luxurious  art  mood.  I  had  to  adopt  a  better  style  of  life 
than  before.  The  success  of  '  Tannhauser,'  which  I  had  surrendered 
solely  in  this  hope,  was  to  assist  me.  1  made  my  domestic  arrange- 
ments on  a  new  scale.  1  wasted  (good  Lord,  wasted!)  money  on  one 
or  the  other  requirement  of  luxury.  Your  visit  in  the  summer,  your 
example,  everything,  tempted  me  to  a  forcibly  cheerful  deception,  or 
rather  desire  of  deception,  as  to  my  circumstances.  My  income 
seemed  to  me  an  infallible  thing.  But  after  my  return  from  Paris  my 
situation  again  became  precarious.  The  expected  orders  for  my 
operas,  and  especially  for  '  Lohengrin,'  did  not  come  in  ;  and  as  the 
year  approaches  its  close  I  realise  that  1  shall  want  much,  very  much, 
money  in  order  to  live  in  my  nest  a  little  longer." 

That  there  is  a  plaintive  and  unmanly  weakness  in 
all  this  is  not  to  be  denied.  But  we  have  to  bear  in 
mind  that  if  Wagner  had  not  received  the  assistance 
of  his  friends  and  been  enabled  to  live  as  he  wished  to 
live  and  to  work  according  to  his  fancies,  we  should 
not  require  biographies  of  him,  and  his  great  dramas 
would  not  have  been  the  delight  of  two  continents. 
That  there  was  still  further  weakness  in  the  metal  of 
this  man  is  shown  by  the  extremities  of  depression 
into  which  he  sank.  Suicidal  thoughts  were  no 
strangers  to  him  and  restlessness  and  discouragement 
were  much  too  common.  In  a  letter  of  March  30, 
1853,  he  says  to  Liszt: 

"What  can  help  me  ?  My  nights  are  mostly  sleep- 
less, weary,  and  miserable.  1  rise  from  my  bed  to  see 
a  day  before  me  which  will  bring  me  not  one  joy.  In- 
tercourse with  people  who  torture  me  and  from  whom 
I  withdraw  to  torture  myself  !  I  feel  disgust  at  what- 
ever 1  undertake.  This  cannot  go  on.  1  cannot  bear 
life  much  longer." 

Yet  in  spite  of  these  pitiable  feelings  the  artistic 


The  Character  of  the  Man        159 

impulse  was  all  potent  within  him.  In  the  beginning 
of  1859  he  wrote  to  his  fidus  Achates:  "Believe  me 
implicitly  when  I  tell  you  that  the  only  reason  for  my 
continuing  to  live  is  the  irresistible  impulse  of  creating 
a  number  of  works  of  art  which  have  their  vital  force 
in  me.  I  recognise  beyond  all  doubt  that  this  act  of 
creating  and  completing  alone  satisfies  me  and  fills  me 
with  a  desire  of  life,  which  otherwise  1  should  not  un- 
derstand." And  yoked  with  these  ideas  always  went 
his  conviction  that  the  world  owed  him  a  gratuitous 
living  that  he  might  accomplish  the  creative  functions 
of  his  genius.  In  October,  1855,  he  wrote  to  the 
amiable  Franz: 

"  America  is  a  terrible  nightmare.  If  the  New  York  people  should 
ever  make  up  their  minds  to  offer  me  a  considerable  sum,  1  should  be 
in  the  most  awful  dilemma.  If  I  refused,  I  would  have  to  conceal  it 
from  all  men,  for  everyone  would  charge  me  in  my  position  with 
recklessness.  Ten  years  ago  1  might  have  undertaken  such  a  thing, 
but  to  have  to  walk  in  such  by-ways  now  in  order  to  live  would  be 
too  hard — now  when  1  am  fit  only  to  do  and  to  devote  myself  to  that 
which  is  strictly  my  business.  I  should  never  finish  the  '  Nibelungen  ' 
in  my  life.  Good  gracious!  such  sums  as  I  might  earn  in  America 
people  ought  to  give  me  without  asking  anything  in  return  beyond 
what  I  am  actually  doing,  and  which  is  the  best  that  I  can  do." 

And  then  he  adds  pathetically  that  he  is  better  fitted 
to  spend  money  than  to  earn  it. 

In  such  a  man  as  Wagner  the  artistic  traits  are 
dominant.  They  rule  the  personality.  The  convic- 
tion of  this  man  that  he  had  in  him  the  conception  of 
epoch-making  works,  and  his  recognition  of  the  fact 
that  the  world  was  his  artistic  enemy,  were  the  mov- 
ing forces  of  his  life.  Without  constantly  keeping 
this  in  mind,  it  is  quite  impossible  to  comprehend  the 


i6o  Richard  Wagner 

character  of  Wagner.  It  explains  at  once  its  weak- 
ness and  its  strength.  It  accounts  even  for  his  do- 
mestic history,  while  it  does  not  justify  it.  His  first 
wife  was  a  good  woman,  and  in  a  way  he  loved  her. 
But  she  was  never  able  to  become  an  essential  part  of 
his  life,  because  she  could  not  enter  into  his  artistic 
thoughts  and  purposes.  Hence  she  was  unable  to 
control  his  impulses  to  wander.  Cosima  von  Bulow 
understood  him  before  she  went  to  live  under  the  im- 
mediate influence  of  his  mind.  That  they  should  have 
been  drawn  to  one  another  was  inevitable.  He  who 
in  letters  to  Liszt  had  cried  out  in  anguish  of  his  need 
of  a  home  and  woman's  care  was  very  ready  to  accept 
them  at  her  hands  at  no  matter  what  sacrifice,  and  she 
in  the  same  spirit  was  ready  to  give  them.  To  her 
Wagner  was  constant  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  tempera- 
mentally he  was  an  inconstant  man.  She  controlled 
his  desires,  and  they  needed  control. 

The  artistic  aspirations  which  governed  his  entire 
career  made  it  a  disappointm.ent.  Wagner  died  a  dis- 
appointed man.  That  he  was  gratified  by  the  produc- 
tion of  the  "Ring"  at  Bayreuth  there  need  be  no 
denial.  That  he  enjoyed  to  the  fullest  the  praises  of 
those  who  seemed  to  comprehend  his  ideals  is  beyond 
doubt.  But,  nevertheless,  he  realised  that  he  had  not 
penetrated  the  public  mind.  He  saw  plainly  that  the 
applause  for  his  works  was  not  for  their  revelation  of 
a  new  standpoint  in  operatic  art,  but  for  their  purely 
theatrical  effectiveness.  The  public  never  saw  be- 
neath the  surface.  He  felt  that  he  was  wholly  mis- 
understood.    In   a  letter  of    1859  to  Liszt  he  said  : 

"  I  never  had  much  pleasure  in  the  performance  of  one  of  my  operas, 
and  shall   have  much  less  in  the  future.     My  ideal  demands  have 


The  Character  of  the  Man        i6i 

increased,  compared  with  former  times,  and  my  sensitiveness  has 
become  much  more  acute  during  the  last  ten  years  while  I  lived  in  ab- 
solute separation  from  artistic  public  life.  I  fear  that  even  you 
do  not  quite  understand  me  in  this  respect,  and  you  should  be- 
lieve my  word  all  the  more  implicitly." 

Again  and  again  he  spoke  in  no  doubtful  terms  of 
his  i<.nowledge  that  the  public  did  not  understand  his 
aims.  He  was  delighted  by  every  evidence  of  sym- 
pathy, but  he  suffered  untold  agonies  of  mind  from 
the  fact  that  "Tannhauser,"  "Lohengrin,"  and  "Die 
Meistersinger "  were  treated  by  the  world  as  mere 
operas,  and  that  there  was  no  evidence  that  the  oper- 
atic public  understood  his  departure  from  the  old  and 
insincere  methods  of  the  commercial  theatre.  The 
disappointment  which  Wagner  experienced  from  the 
failure  of  the  world  to  grasp  his  ideals  would  have 
continued,  had  he  lived  longer.  Even  now  only  a  few 
ardent  lovers  of  the  loftiest  things  in  art  have  entered 
fully  into  the  spirit  of  his  conceptions.  One  has  only 
to  attend  a  performance  of  "Siegfried  "  before  an  or- 
dinary audience  of  professed  Wagnerites  to  see  how 
far  short  of  a  complete  understanding  of  Wagner  his 
friends  still  are.  Thousands  of  well-meaning  persons 
regard  themselves  as  disciples  of  this  unique  master 
when  they  have  learned  the  contents  of  Hans  von 
Wolzogen's  handbooks  and  can  identify  every  leading 
motive  in  each  score  when  it  is  heard  in  the  orchestra. 
The  praise  of  all  such  people  was  vinegar  and  gall  to 
Wagner.  He  felt  that  he  was  utterly  misunderstood, 
and  that  was  torture  to  his  sensitive  spirit. 

He  was  unhappy,  too,  because  he  could  not  get  his 
works  properly  performed.  Perhaps  he  never  expe- 
rienced deep  delight  at  any  representation  except  the 


1 62  Richard  Wagner 

first  of  "Tristan  und  Isolde,"  in  which  the  splendid 
work  of  Schnorr  filled  him  with  joy.  But  his  ' '  Lohen- 
grin "  and  his  "Tannhauser"  were  never  given  to  his 
satisfaction,  for  there  were  absolutely  no  singers  who 
united  the  ability  to  declaim  the  recitative  and  to  de- 
liver the  plentiful  cantilena  also.  Not  only  was  there 
a  lack  of  singers,  but  there  were  no  stage  managers 
who  understood  him,  and  so  all  over  Germany  his 
works  were  performed  in  a  spirit  foreign  to  their 
poetic  content,  and  the  master  was  misrepresented  to 
a  public  which  would  have  found  it  almost  impossible 
to  comprehend  him  in  the  most  favourable  conditions. 
Mr.  Dannreuther  says  :  "The  composer  of  'Tristan' 
confronted  by  the  Intendant  of  some  Hoftheater,  fresh 
from  a  performance  of  Herr  von  Flotow's  '  Martha '  ! 
A  comic  picture,  but  unfortunately  a  typical  one,  im- 
plying untold  suffering  on  Wagner's  part." 

Wagner  was  under  medium  size,  but  had  the  ap- 
pearance of  being  somewhat  taller  than  he  really  was. 
In  1849  the  police  description  of  him  ran  thus  : 
"Wagner  is  37  to  38  years  old,  of  middle  height,  has 
brown  hair,  wears  glasses  ;  open  forehead  ;  eyebrows 
brown  ;  eyes  grey-blue  ;  nose  and  mouth  well  pro- 
portioned ;  chin  round.  Particulars:  in  speaking  and 
moving  he  is  hasty."  Animation  marked  all  his  ways, 
and  at  times  he  revelled  in  the  wildest  spirits.  Pe- 
riods of  deep  depression  occurred  to  him,  but  his 
nervous  energy  seldom  deserted  him. 

The  study  of  his  personality  will  always  bring  one 
back  to  the  same  point.  He  was  entirely  dominated 
by  his  artistic  nature  and  ambition.  His  life  can  be 
understood  only  by  an  analysis  of  his  motives  based 
on  this  premise.     Wagner,  the  man,  was  the  creature 


The  Character  of  the  Man        163 

of  Wagner,  the  dreamer  of  "Siegfried."  There  has 
never  been  a  clearer  instance  of  the  mastery  of  genius. 
He  was  unceasingly  driven  by  it  from  boyhood  to 
the  grave.  It  made  him  selfish,  intolerant,  dogmatic, 
dictatorial.  But  it  achieved  its  ends.  The  grave  at 
Wahnfried  contains  only  ashes.  All  that  was  vital  in 
Richard  Wagner  lives  still  in  the  dramas  and  the  prose 
works.  The  forces  which  were  in  the  man  are  just 
as  active  now  as  they  were  when  he  laughed  and 
stormed  in  the  villa  at  Bayreuth. 


PART  II 

THE  ARTISTIC  AIMS  OF  WAGNER 

"  Every  bar  of  dramatic  music  is  justified  only  by  the  fact  that  it 
explains  something  in  the  action  or  in  the  character  of  the  actor." — 
Wagner  to  Liszt,  September,  1850. 


165 


0(^^'-^^^         4  S  (,.^^^^5^^^    ^(WJWvvvC. 


CHAPTER  I 

THE   LYRIC   DRAMA    AS    HE   FOUND   IT 

What  was  this  man  Wagner  trying  to  do  ? 

Broadly  stated,  the  purpose  of  his  life  was  to  reform 
the  lyric  drama,  to  restore  to  it  the  artistic  nature  with 
which  it  was  born,  and  to  bring  it  into  direct  relation 
to  the  life  of  the  German  people.  His  ideal  was  the 
highest  form  of  the  drama,  with  music  as  the  chief 
expository  medium  ;  and  his  most  earnest  desire,  to 
make  that  drama  national,  both  in  its  expression  of 
the  loftiest  artistic  impulses  of  the  Teutonic  people 
and  in  their  recognition  of  that  fact.  The  whole  con- 
troversy about  the  works  of  Wagner  arose  from  the 
determined  opposition  of  those  who  were  unwilling 
to  see  the  existing  order  of  things  operatic  changed. 
The  opera,  as  it  was  when  Wagner  hurled  his  new 
ideas  and  works  into  the  theatrical  arena,  was  a  vastly 
different  thing  from  the  music-drama,  and  the  con- 
fusion in  the  public  and  critical  mind,  resulting  from 
the  fact  that  Wagner  used  the  outward  and  visible 
signs  of  opera,  brought  about  a  bitter  conflict.  This 
conflict  cannot  end  till  the  whole  public  realises  that 
although  it  goes  on  Monday  night  to  hear  "  Lucia  di 
Lammermoor  "  and  on  Wednesday  to  hear  "Tristan 
und  Isolde,"  both  employing  song  instead  of  speech, 

167 


1 68  Richard  Wagner 

and  both  outwardly  built  on  theatrical  lines,  it  is 
nevertheless  confronted  by  two  radically  different 
forms  of  art,  working  for  diametrically  opposite  re- 
^  suits. 

That  we  may  the  better  understand  the  matter  we 
must  shortly  rehearse  the  story  of  the  birth  and  de- 
velopment of  the  lyric  drama.  The  opera  was  born 
at  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century  of  an  effort  to  re- 
construct the  extinct  Greek  drama.  The  projectors  of 
the  movement  knew  that  the  Greeks  delivered  the 
lines  of  their  tragedies  in  an  artificial  manner  closely 
resembling  chanting.  In  their  endeavours  to  provide 
something  similar  to  this,  they  invented  dramatic  reci- 
tative. At  first  this  recitative  was  employed  only  in 
the  construction  of  monologues,  but  as  the  explorers 
in  new  musical  territory  gained  confidence,  they  made 
wider  reaches.  At  the  close  of  the  century  "  Euryd- 
ice,"  a  drama  in  music,  by  Rinuccini  and  Peri,  was 
publicly  performed.  The  new  form  of  play  gained 
immediate  popularity,  and  the  progress  of  the  lyric 
drama  was  begun. 

The  inventors  of  the  new  form  had  just  ideas. 
Peri  believed  it  to  be  the  office  of  dramatic  music  to 
embody,  intensify,  and  convey  to  the  hearer  the  emo- 
tional content  of  the  text.  His  method  of  accom- 
plishing this  was  to  imitate  in  music  the  nuances  of 
the  voice  in  speaking.  In  agitated  passages  he  used  a 
faster  movement  and  irregular  rhythm.  In  unimpas- 
sioned  speech  he  wrote  his  music  more  smoothly. 
His  ideas  were  undeniably  correct,  but  they  could  not 
be  adequately  carried  out  with  the  resources  of  vocal 
music  in  his  day.  The  art  of  solo  writing  was  in  its 
infancy,  and  the  melodic  and  harmonic  expression  of 


The  Lyric  Drama  as  He  Found  It    169 

dramatic  emotion  had  just  begun.  Consequently 
Peri's  music  was  monotonous.  Tiiere  was  no  wide 
difference  between  his  delineation  of  sadness  and  his 
embodiment  of  despair.  Furthermore  his  attempted 
fidelity  to  the  inner  nature  of  speech  led  him  away 
from  definite  musical  phraseology.  His  music  was 
totally  deficient  in  form,  and  it  was  the  discernment 
of  this  weakness  and  the  attempts  of  his  successors  to 
provide  the  remedy  that  led  the  opera  out  of  the  path 
of  dramatic  sincerity. 

Monteverde,  the  most  gifted  of  the  early  composers 
of  opera,  made  remarkable  essays  at  combining  musi- 
cal clearness  and  symmetry  with  dramatic  expression, 
but  his  works  show  us  that  the  materials  of  the 
art  were  as  yet  so  embryonic  as  to  prohibit  complete 
success.  But  the  instantaneous  popularity  of  opera 
made  it  a  veritable  gold-field  for  composers,  and  it 
speedily  became  the  California  of  all  the  adventurous 
spirits  of  music  in  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth 
century.  These  writers  naturally  sought  the  shortest 
and  easiest  path  to  popularity,  and  this  was  soon 
proved  to  be  in  the  provision  of  vocal  airs  of  simple, 
clearly  defined  form  and  pretty  melody.  The  operatic 
aria  was  thus  developed  and  became  the  central  sun  of 
the  operatic  system. 

But  as  solo  arias  could  not  make  up  the  entire 
scheme  of  the  opera,  duets,  trios,  and  quartettes  were 
introduced,  care  being  taken  to  conserve  in  them  the 
principles  of  the  air.  It  was  soon  found  that  a  sharp 
demarcation  had  to  be  made  between  these  set  pieces 
and  the  ordinary  dialogue  by  means  of  which  the 
stories  of  the  operas  were  told.  So  gradually  an 
opera  came  to  be  a  symmetrically  arranged  series  of 


I70  Richard  Wagner 

solos,  duets,  trios,  quartettes,  and  other  set  pieces, 
joined  by  a  chain  of  recitative.  In  ail  this  develop- 
ment purely  musical  requirements  had  been  con- 
sidered. The  librettist,  therefore,  was  merely  the 
servant  of  the  composer,  and  it  was  his  business  to 
arrange  his  book  with  a  view  to  a  pleasing  succession 
of  pieces  in  the  aria  form,  or  some  form  very  similar 
to  it.  His  story  had  to  be  so  constructed  that  it  could 
be  told  in  the  dialogue  between  the  set  pieces,  and  by 
means  of  this  dialogue  it  should  lead  up  to  situations 
at  which  the  arias  could  be  effectively,  if  not  quite 
appropriately,  introduced. 

This  was  the  condition  of  the  opera  in  the  middle 
of  the  eighteenth  century  at  the  advent  of  Mozart  and 
Gluck.  It  should  be  noted  that  occasionally  com- 
posers arose  who  had  some  sense  of  their  obligations 
to  dramatic  art  and  who  endeavoured  to  improve  the 
aesthetic  nature  of  the  opera.  Lully  and  Rameau  in 
France  did  much  along  this  line  and  established  tradi- 
tions which  have  been  of  lasting  benefit  to  the  lyric 
art  of  their  country.     But  neither  they  nor  their  im- 

fpiediate  successors  discovered  the  radical  evil  of  the 
system  upon  which  they  were  working.  The  ground- 
plan  of  the  opera  was  still  musical.  There  was  still 
no  thought  of  first  writing  a  dramatic  poem  and  then 
setting  it  to  music.  The  demands  of  the  score  formul- 
ated the  plan  for  the  libretto. 

Mozart  had  not  a  drop  of  the  reformer's  blood  in 
his  veins.  The  incongruity  of  the  extant  form  of  the 
opera  seems  never  to  have  occurred  to  his  mind.  He 
accepted  the  plan  of  the  lyric  drama  as  it  was  handed 
down  to  him  by  his  forerunners  without  question, 
and  by  the  sheer  force  of  his  incomparable  genius  sue- 


The  Lyric  Drama  as  He  Found  It    171 

ceeded  in  writing  immortal  apologies  for  its  existence. 
In  his  hands  the  aria  took  a  new  meaning,  and  the 
recitative  became  a  flexible  and  responsive  instrument. 
His  treatment  of  the  carefully  built  ensembles,  which 
had  come  to  be  a  feature  of  opera,  was  that  of  a  genius 
of  the  first  order.  So  great,  indeed,  was  this  man  that 
to-day  the  works  of  all  his  successors  who  wrote 
operas  on  the  old  plan  become  as  farthing  rushlights 
before  the  splendour  of  his  glowing  masterpieces. 
Antiquated  as  the  style  of  Mozart's  music  is,  his  operas 
speak  the  accents  of  inspiration  and  come  before  us 
with  the  gesture  of  authority. 

Gluck,  on  the  other  hand,  without  the  musical 
genius  of  Mozart,  had  the  insight  of  a  cosmopolitan 
coupled  with  the  impulses  of  a  progressist.  The  ex- 
ternal defects  of  the  opera  were  patent  to  his  sane 
consideration,  and  he  sought  at  once  for  the  corrective. 
He  was  a  sincere,  conscientious  reformer;  and  he  did 
not  a  little  to  cut  away  the  growth  of  underbrush 
which  had  sprung  up  around  the  trunk  of  operatic 
art.  But  he  did  not  discern  that  the  twig  had  been 
bent,  the  tree  inclined ;  and  that  the  trunk  itself  needed 
to  be  hewn  down  and  the  growth  started  again  from 
the  root.  He  saw  that  there  was  too  much  difference 
between  the  recitative  and  the  aria,  and  that  the  latter 
was  an  impediment  to  the  progress  of  the  drama.  He 
perceived  that  the  composers  had  catered  too  much  to 
the  vanity  of  singers  and  had  permitted  a  richly  orna- 
mental style  of  song,  antagonistic  to  broad  dramatic 
expression,  to  become  the  type  of  operatic  music.  He 
refused  to  write  with  a  constant  view  to  helping  the 
singer  to  display  his  voice  and  technic.  He  insisted 
that  the  business  of  the  music  was  to  voice  the  content 


172  Richard  Wagner 

of  the  text,  or  as  he  himself  expressed  it,  "  I  en- 
deavoured to  reduce  music  to  its  proper  function,  that 
of  seconding  poetry  by  enforcing  the  expression  of 
the  sentiment  and  the  interest  of  the  situations  with- 
out interrupting  the  action  or  weakening  it  by  super- 
fluous ornament."  He  strove  to  curtail  the  empty 
parade  of  musical  devices  and  to  restore  that  intimacy 
between  text  and  song  which  had  been  the  chief 
charm  and  the  most  potent  argument  for  the  existence 
of  the  "Drama  per  Musica  "  in  its  original  form. 

But  Gluck  failed  to  achieve  his  purpose  because  he 
retained  the  set  musical  forms  which  dictated  the 
shape  of  the  text  and  demanded  the  old-fashioned  ar- 
rangement of  the  scenario.  He  did  not  reach  that 
level  of  enlightenment  from  which  he  might  have  seen 
that  the  radical  error  of  opera  lay  in  regarding  music 
as  an  end  and  not  as  a  means.  The  stumbling-block 
of  the  lyric  drama  had  been  the  aria,  and  to  this  fact 
Gluck  was  strangely  blind.  It  may  not  be  amiss  to 
conjecture  that,  even  if  he  had  perceived  the  nature  of 
this  fault,  he  would  not  have  known  how  to  correct 
it  ;  for  the  development  of  musical  design  had  not  ad- 
vanced far  enough  to  offer  the  suggestion  of  a  better 
plan.  Gluck  saw  the  evil  effect  of  the  empty  repeti- 
tions in  the  aria  and  expressly  forbade  them  ;  but  he 
was  too  wise  to  believe  that  he  could  proceed  wholly 
without  musical  design.  To  have  done  so  would 
have  thrown  him  back  to  the  era  of  Peri  and  would 
have  resulted  in  chaos  and  a  confusion  of  the  public 
mind.  Therefore,  retaining  the  aria  in  a  slightly  modi- 
fied form,  he  strove  with  the  deepest  earnestness  and 
with  admirable  skill  to  infuse  into  the  music  of  his 
works  a  genuine  dramatic  expressiveness.      He  made 


The  Lyric  Drama  as  He  Found  It    173 

his  arias  delineative  of  the  situations  and  he  paid  the 
homage  of  an  artist  to  the  text,  instead  of  writing 
pretty  tunes  for  their  own  sake.  He  tried  to  arrange 
the  ballets,  which  his  French  public  demanded,  so 
that  they  should  constitute  part  of  the  action  of  the 
drama  and  not  be  an  interruption  to  it.  And  he  made 
a  special  study  of  the  resources  of  instrumental  ex- 
pression. 

His  public  at  first  fought  him  with  stubborn  deter- 
mination, but  he  conquered  it  in  the  end.  Yet  his 
influence  on  the  operatic  stage  was  not  permanently 
felt  outside  of  France.  The  impetus  given  to  Italian 
opera  by  the  easily  attained  popularity  of  the  aria 
writers  and  the  bent  imparted  to  it  by  their  style  re- 
mained. The  applause  of  the  unthinking,  who  con- 
stitute the  vast  majority  of  theatre-goers  in  all  countries, 
is  much  more  readily  obtained  by  the  agile  delivery  of 
a  brilliant  air  with  a  simple  dance  rhythm  as  its  basis 
than  by  a  seriously  conceived  dramatic  piece,  which 
demands  that  the  auditor  shall  bring  both  intelligence 
and  sensibility  into  the  presence  of  the  singer.  The 
Italian  writers  sought  for  this  easy  applause,  and  the 
famous  Rossini,  Donizetti,  and  Bellini,  who  were 
the  princes  of  the  Italian  stage  when  Wagner  was 
born,  wrote  wholly  for  the  pleasure  of  the  ear.  The 
Italian  opera  was  in  its  entirety  a  musical  product, ; 
making  but  the  shallowest  pretence  at  representation 
of  the  thought  of  the  text,  and  scorning  real  dramatic 
sincerity.  The  old  forms  prevailed  and  the  librettist 
was  but  a  purveyor  to  the  composer. 

In  France  some  outward  pretence  of  adhering  to  the 
long-established  dramatic  principles  of  the  French 
lyric  drama  remained,  but  here  the  musical  dictator  of 


174  Richard  Wagner 

the  day  was  Meyerbeer,  a  man  who  sought  popular 
applause  as  ardently  as  any  Italian,  but  who  adopted 
a  slightly  different  plan  of  gaining  it.  Whereas  the 
Italian  appealed  to  his  public  chiefly  by  musical  sweet- 
meats, Meyerbeer  deftly  aimed  at  a  combination  of 
showy  musical  effects  with  all  the  resources  of  theatri- 
calism.  He  brought  to  its  perfection  the  ground-plan 
of  the  French  grand  opera,  in  which  a  striking  succes- 
sion of  scenes  is  one  of  the  most  potent  elements  of 
attractiveness.  Here  the  librettist  must  not  only  pro- 
vide for  the  usual  alternation  of  solos  with  duets,  trios 
or  quartettes,  and  ensembles,  but  must  also  plan  the 
story  of  his  book  so  that  a  simple  cottage  or  moonlight 
love  scene  shall  be  followed  by  a  grand  pageant  or  a 
glittering  ballet.  One  has  only  to  recall  the  progress 
of  the  scenes  in  "  L'Africaine  "  or  "  Les  Huguenots" 
to  see  how  the  Meyerbeerian  plan  is  worked  out,  and 
to  realise  how  it  has  dominated  the  modern  opera  in 
such  creations  as  Gounod's  "Faust"  and  Verdi's 
"  Aida." 

The  theatricalism  of  the  ground-plan  infused  itself 
into  the  music  with  Meyerbeer.  He  was  always 
planning  for  the  immediate  theatrical  effect,  never 
thinking  of  the  deep  dramatic  truthfulness  which 
might  be  imparted  to  music.  For  this  reason  his  mu- 
sic is  hollow  and  the  bones  of  it  rattle.  Occasionally 
he  is  carried  away  by  a  really  noble  dramatic  situation 
and  writes  greatly,  as  in  the  final  duet  of  "  Les  Hugue- 
nots." But  the  problem  of  Meyerbeer  was  precisely 
the  same  as  that  of  Rossini,  namely,  how  best  to  tickle 
quickly  the  ^ancy  of  the  great  unthinking  masses  and 
to  fill  the  theatre.  Thus  Wagner  found  the  opera  es- 
tablished on  a  purely  commercial  basis,  with  art  de- 


The  Lyric  Drama  as  He  Found  It    175 

graded  to  the  dust.  It  was  this  which  filled  him  with 
disgust,  and  against  which  he  fought  throughout  his 
life.  It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  in  the  beginning  he 
tried  to  reach  the  public  by  the  same  means  as  Meyer- 
beer. He  tried  to  serve  both  art  and  Mammon,  but  he 
speedily  discovered  that  real  success  could  not  be  thus 
gained.  He  learned  in  writing  "  Rienzi  "  that  he  was 
following  the  wrong  path.  In  entering  upon  this 
path,  however,  he  was  certainly  led  astray  partly  by 
the  victories  of  Weber. 

This  master  had  in  his  "  Der  Freischiitz  "  produced 
in  1821  a  work  which  not  only  was  essentially  Ger- 
man, but  which  abandoned  much  of  the  outward  ap- 
pearance of  opera.  He  announced  his  position  by  the 
definition  of  opera  as  "an  art  work  complete  in  itself, 
in  which  all  the  parts  and  contributions  of  the  related 
and  utilised  arts  meet  and  disappear  in  each  other, 
and,  in  a  manner,  form  a  new  world  by  their  own  de- 
struction." It  was  his  belief  that  a  libretto  should  not 
be  made  simply  as  a  framework  for  the  old-fashioned 
sequence  of  tunes,  but  should  have  an  organic  union 
with  the  music,  and  he  said,  "  It  is  the  first  and  most 
sacred  duty  of  song  to  be  truthful  with  the  utmost 
fidelity  possible  in  declamation."  He  had  no  respect 
for  the  established  forms,  but  held  that  the  form  of 
the  music  should  be  prescribed  by  the  poem.  Never-  j 
theless  one  finds  that  in  its  outward  aspects  the  Weber 
opera,  by  reason  of  its  employment  of  the  German 
folksong  style,  treads  a  path  not  remote  from  that  of 
the  aria.  For  Weber  did  not  discover  any  principle 
of  musical  design  which  would  enable  him  to  free 
himself  from  some  restraint  by  the  cyclical  song  form. 
Spoken  dialogue  takes  the  place  of  recitative  in  his 


i;^  Richard  Wagner 

works,  but  the  vocal  numbers,  introduced  in  much  the 
same  way  as  in  the  older  works,  are  of  the  song  fam- 
ily, and  in  spite  of  an  immensely  widened  and  deep- 
ened expression,  the  dominance  of  a  purely  musical 
pattern  is  not  escaped. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  operatic  art  and  such  the 
natural  attitude  of  the  public  toward  it  when  Richard 
Wagner  began  to  look  beyond  the  narrow  boundaries 
of  his  small  estate  and  dream  of  fame  as  an  artist. 
The  burning  desire  of  the  Konigsberg  and  Riga  period 
was,  as  he  has  expressed  it  in  the  "  Communication  to 
My  Friends,"  "to  extricate  myself  from  the  petty 
commerce  of  the  German  stage,  and  straightway  try 
my  luck  in  Paris."  But  it  was  only  the  puny  huck- 
stering of  the  little  theatres  which  offended  him.  He 
had  yet  to  learn  that  the  commercial  element  was  just 
as  conspicuously  present  in  more  pretentious  under- 
takings. He  fell  in  love  with  Bulwer's  "  Rienzi,"  and 
at  once  saw  in  it  material  for  an  opera. 

"This  Rienzi  with  great  thoughts  in  his  head,  great  feelings  in  his 
heart,  amid  an  entourage  of  coarseness  and  vulgarity,  set  all  my  nerves 
a-quivering  vi'ith  sympathy  and  love  ;  yet  my  plan  for  an  art  work 
based  thereon  sprang  first  from  a  perception  of  the  purely  lyric  element 
in  the  hero's  atmosphere.  The  Messengers  of  Peace,  the  Church's 
summons  to  awake,  the  battle  hymns — these  were  what  impelled  me 
to  make  an  opera  :  '  Rienzi.'  " 

In  trying  to  make  this  opera  he  learned  that  the  im- 
pulse of  a  true  art  work  must  come  not  from  without, 
but  from  within  ;  that  an  opera  which  might  be  truly 
called  a  lyric  drama  could  not  be  created  out  of  the 
desire  of  some  one  to  set  the  tempting  portions  of 
a  lyric  book  to  tuneful  music,  but  only  out  of  the  de- 
mand of  a  great  drama  for  the  musical  form  of  speech. 


The  Lyric  Drama  as  He  Found  It    177 

In  writing  the  book  of  "  Rienzi  "  he  thought  only  of 
producing  an  effective  opera  libretto,  and  to  this  end 
he  followed  the  Meyerbeerian  ground-plan.  His  goal 
was  the  Paris  Grand  Opera,  and  a  grand  opera  was 
what  he  wrote.  The  materials  of  the  story  he  saw 
"  in  no  other  light  than  that  of  a  five-act  opera,  with 
five  brilliant  finales,  and  filled  with  hymns,  proces- 
sions, and  the  musical  clash  of  arms."  But  even 
while  fashioning  this  material  for  purely  theatrical 
effect,  he  sought  to  make  contributions  toward  real 
art,  and  it  was  the  impossibility  of  combining  the 
Meyerbeerian  make-believe  with  the  fruit  of  his  artis- 
tic nature  that  showed  him  how  far  he  was  astray 
from  the  path  leading  to  substantial  and  permanent 
success.  Nevertheless  he  would  no  doubt  have  strug- 
gled on  to  force  himself  to  travel  the  highway  toward 
the  Grand  Opera,  had  he  not  found  the  gates  locked 
against  him.  It  was  in  his  despair  that  he  at  last  re- 
solved to  write  that  which  was  in  him  and  take  no 
thought  of  external  success.  And  it  was  of  this  first 
travail  of  freed  genius  that  were  brought  to  birth  the 
fundamental  tenets  of  his  dramatic  creed,  previously 
cherished  only  in  the  secret  womb  of  his  mind. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE    REFORMS    OF    WAGNER 

We  may  now  approach  the  study  in  detail  of  Wag- 
ner's artistic  aims.  I  have  already  said  that  his  purpose 
was  to  restore  artistic  truth,  dramatic  sincerity,  to  the 
opera,  and  to  bring  it  into  some  relation  to  the  life  of 
the  German  people.  Recapitulated  with  more  par- 
ticulars, then,  the  reforms  at  which  he  aimed  were 
these  : 

(i) — The  music  had  come  to  be  the  end  instead  of 
a  means  of  expression,  and  consequently  musical 
forms  dominated.  Wagner  strove  to  confine  music 
to  its  proper  function  of  expression.  He  desired  to 
prevent  its  being  regarded  as  the  object  of  the  lyric 
drama,  but  wished  it  to  take  its  legitimate  place  as 
one  of  the  factors  in  the  composition  of  such  a  play. 
His  labour  in  this  direction  included  the  disuse  of  the 
set  musical  forms. 

(2) — He  sought  to  make  a  complete  organic  union 
of  the  elements  of  the  drama  employed  in  opera, 
a  union  in  which  each  part  should  be  essential  and  all 
should  work  together  for  a  common  end,  namely  the 
embodiment  of  the  poet's  thought. 

(3)— He  endeavoured  to  make  the  "  libretto  "  a  con- 
sistent drama,  but  always  suitable  to  the  emotional 
expressiveness  of  music. 

178 


The^  Reforms  of  Wagner  1 79 

(4) — He  aimed  to  bring  the  lyric  drama  out  of  the 
slough  of  mere  commercialism,  and  give  it  a  direct 
relation  to  and  influence  upon  the  intellectual  and  aes- 
thetic life  of  the  people. 

We  have  seen  that  when  he  set  out  to  free  himself 
from  the  petty  commercialism  of  the  German  theatre, 
Wagner  fondly  dreamed  that  with  a  "  grand  opera  " 
produced  on  the  stage  of  the  Grand  Opera  of  Paris, 
he  would  emancipate  himself.  But  in  writing  that 
work  and  labouring  for  its  production,  he  learned  two 
vital  facts,  namely,  that  artistic  success  could  not  be 
attained  on  the  lines  of  the  typical  grand  opera  and 
that  from  petty  commercialism  he  had  only  ap- 
proached that  of  a  larger  field.  He  saw  on  every 
hand  the  theatre  in  the  hands  of  mere  speculators,  who 
sought  not  art,  but  money,  and  who  were  ready  to 
sink  all  artistic  principles  in  order  that  they  might  ap- 
peal to  the  debased  tastes  of  "the  stolid  German 
Philistine  or  the  bored  Parisian  roue."  When  he 
turned  his  eyes  backward  along  the  path  of  history, 
he  saw  that  it  had  been  thus  for  centuries.  In  the 
end  he  came  to  the  conclusion  that  only  in  the  re- 
lation of  the  Greek  drama  to  the  Greek  people  could 
he  find  that  Arcadian  perfection  for  which  he  sought. 
And  so  he  asked  himself  whether  it  was  not  possible 
to  rise  once  again  to  the  lofty  level  of  the  Greek 
tragedy  and  thus  bring  the  theatre  into  relation  to  the 
heart  and  mind  of  the  people.  In  his  conception  of 
the  lyric  drama  he  believed  that  he  saw  the  means 
of  doing  this. 

The  student  of  his  artistic  work  will  find  his  ideas  set 
forth  in  three  of  his  literary  compositions,  "Art  and 
Revolution,"  "The  Art  Work  of  the   Future,"  and 


i8o  Richard  Wagner, 

"Opera  and  Drama."  In  "Art  and  Revolution"  he 
studied  the  theatre  of  y^schylus  and  Sophocles  and 
examined  the  reasons  for  its  decline.  In  the  devotion 
of  Greek  religion  to  the  ideals  of  beauty  Wagner 
found  the  explanation  of  the  Grecian  fidelity  to  the 
true  principles  of  allart  and  of  the  final  union  of  the 
arts  of  poetry,  music,  and  mimetics  in  the  Greek 
drama.  He  saw  the  highest  period  of  this  drama  co- 
incident v^ith  the  supremacy  of  Athens.  With  the 
decline  of  the  Athenian  state  came  the  decline  of  the 
Greek  drama,  and  "the  mad  laughter  of  Aristo- 
phanes." The  spirit  of  community,  he  says,  split 
into  a  thousand  lines  of  egotism,  and  the  union  of  the 
arts  which  made  the  drama  also  was  dissolved. 

Then  came  the  era  of  philosophy,  which  was  inimi- 
cal to  art,  and  the  dawn  of  Christianity  was  still  less 
favourable  to  it.  The  old  Greek  freedom  in  the  con- 
templation of  nature  and  untrammelled  worship  of 
beauty  for  its  own  sake  could  not  live  under  the  reign 
of  Christian  teaching.  With  the  changes  in  public 
thought  resultant  on  the  new  teachings  of  Christian- 
ity and  philosophy,  art  assumed  a  nev^  relation  to  the 
national  life,  and  in  Wagner's  opinion  a  social  revolu- 
tion alone  would  be  the  instrument  to  restore  it  to  its 
pristine  standing.  With  his  social  views  we  need 
not  now  concern  ourselves.  '  The  point  for  us  to  bear 
in  mind  is  that,  like  the  founders  of  opera,  he  went 
back  to  the  Greek  drama  for  his  first  principles  and 
in  it  found  a  union  of  the  arts  of  poetry,  music,  and 
action.  This  union  suggested  to  him,  as  it  had  to 
Peri  and  his  friends,  the  laws  on  which  must  stand 
the  modern  play  in  music. 

From  this  point  he  starts  in  his  "Art  Work  of  the 


The  Reforms  of  Wagner         i8i 

Future."  He  finds  that  after  the  dissolution  of  the 
old  union  of  the  arts,  each  sought  its  own  develop- 
ment on  independent  lines  and  that  each  had  at  times 
sunk  to  the  level  of  a  mere  amusement.  Various  un- 
successful attempts  had  been  made  to  reunite  these 
arts,  but  their  independence  had  increased  constantly 
till  in  Wagner's  day  each  had  touched  the  uttermost 
limits  of  its  development  and  could  not  possibly  go 
further.  It  was  necessary,  therefore,  that  each  should 
sacrifice  some  measure  of  its  independence  in  order  to 
unite  with  the  others  in  an  artistic  entity.  Lihis  in 
Wagner's  mind  was  a  musical  drama,  in  which 
poetry,  painting,  music,  and  acting  should  unite  in  an 
organic  whole. ' 

Having  in  this  essay  laid  down  the  fundamental 
demands  for  his  ideal  lyric  drama,  he  made  in  "  Opera 
and  Drama  "  an  exhaustive  study  of  this  form  of  art. 
The  first  part  of  the  work  is  devoted  to  a  critical 
sketch  of  the  development  of  opera.  The  text  is  that 
which  we  have  already  noted,  that  the  means  of  ex- 
pression, music,  had  been  taken  for  the  end,  while 
the  real  object,  the  drama,  had  been  made  subsidiary 
to  the  production  of  pretty  music  in  set  forms.  With 
this  as  his  theme,  Wagner  examined  the  works  of  the 
various  operatic  masters  and  adduced  evidence  to  es- 
tablish his  position.  It  was  this  part  of  his  book 
which  caused  the  bitterest  comment  at  the  time  of 
publication. 

The  second  part  of  the  work  is  given  to  a  study 
of  the  spoken  drama,  and  it  shows  that  Wagner 
was  a  close  student  of  the  works  of  the  leading  Eng- 
lish, French,  and  German  dramatists.  It  is  in  this 
survey  that  he  indicates   the   special  nature   of  the 


1 82  Richard  Wagner 

difficulties  placed  in  the  way  of  dramatic  treatment  by 
historical  subjects,  which  he  himself  found  imprac- 
ticable for  operas.  He  notes  how  Schiller  laboured 
unsuccessfully  to  give  clearness  and  form  to  the  mass 
of  historical  details  which  he  introduced  into  his 
"  Wallenstein,"  while  Shakespeare  rested  upon  the 
firm  ground  of  the  auditor's  imagination  and  painted 
in  broad  lines.  Here  the  author  propounds  his  own 
theory  that  for  an  ideal  drama  a  mythical  subject  is 
the  best,  because  it  admits  of  a  centralisation  of  the 
poet's  thought  upon  the  characters  and  emotions  of 
the  personages  and  rids  him  of  the  limitations  of  his- 
torical colour,  or  conventions  of  time  or  place. 

"  In  the  drama,"  he  says,  "  we  must  become  knowers  through  the 
Feeling.  The  Understanding  tells  us  '  So  is  it,'  only  when  the  Feel- 
ing has  told  us,  '  So  must  it  be.'  Only  through  itself,  however,  does 
this  Feeling  become  intelligible  to  itself  ;  it  understands  no  other  lan- 
guage than  its  own.  Things  which  can  only  be  explained  to  us  by 
the  infinite  accommodations  of  the  Understanding  embarrass  and  con- 
found the  Feeling.  In  Drama,  therefore,  an  action  can  only  be  ex- 
plained when  it  is  completely  vindicated  by  the  Feeling  ;  and  it  thus 
is  the  dramatic  poet's  task,  not  to  invent  actions,  but  to  make  an 
action  so  intelligible  through  its  emotional  necessity,  that  we  may 
altogether  dispense  with  the  intellect's  assistance  in  its  vindication. 
The  poet,  therefore,  has  to  make  its  main  scope  the  choice  of  the  Action, 
— which  he  must  so  choose  that,  alike  in  its  character  as  in  its  compass, 
it  makes  possible  to  him  its  entire  vindication  from  out  the  Feeling  ; 
for  in  this  vindication  alone  resides  the  reaching  of  his  aim." 

This  is  the  kernel  of  the  second  part  of  "  Opera  and 
Drama."  In  the  third  part  he  examines  the  materials 
of  the  poetic  drama.  He  studies  the  technical  re- 
sources of  rhythm  and  rhyme  and  endeavours  to  show 
how  far  they  can  be  utilised  by  the  dramatist.  From 
this  he  advances  to  an  examination  of  the  type  of 


The  Reforms  of  Wagner         183 

verse  best  suited  to  the  purpose  of  the  lyric  drama, 
and  here  we  are  made  acquainted  with  the  theory  of 
his  own  verse.  He  discourses  on  the  functions  of 
melody  and  harmony  in  the  expression  of  the  feelings 
of  a  drama  and  expounds  his  ideas  as  to  the  powers 
and  uses  of  the  orchestra.  Finally  he  shows  how  he 
believes  that  the  development  of  a  drama  should  lead 
to  periods  of  emotional  exaltation,  or,  technically, 
emotional  "situations,"  in  which  the  expressiveness 
of  melody  would  be  employed  with  all  its  resources 
to  enforce  the  poet's  thought.  The  principal  tenet  of 
this  part  of  the  book  is  that  the  music  must  grow 
inevitably  out  of  the  emotional  character  of  the  scene, 
and  that  its  technical  potencies  must  be  employed  in 
proportion  to  their  fitness  for  specific  kinds  of  ex- 
pression] 

It  is  in  his  studies  of  the  spoken  historical  drama 
and  his  expression  of  his  ideas  as  to  the  proper 
materials  for  the  lyric  story  that  we  must  find  the 
formation  of  Wagner's  fundamental  theory  that  the 
myth  offered  the  best  subject-matter  for  the  musical 
dramatist.  The  details  of  movement  and  accessories 
required  in  a  historical  drama  are  in  the  way  of  the 
necessary  process  of  focussing  the  music  on  the  grand 
emotions  of  the  play.  The  simplification  of  the  story, 
so  that  its  central  situations  are  emotional  and  not 
merely  theatric,  is  impossible  when  historic  truth  is 
preserved.  But  all  mythology  is  the  embodiment  of 
primary  world-thoughts.  It  is  the  poetry  of  peoples, 
and  he  who  looks  below  the  surface  will  find  in  it  the 
whole  heart  of  a  nation.  And  thus  the  personages  of 
mythologic  story  became  world-types.  They  are  em- 
bodiments of  racial  or  national  ideals.     They  are  free, 


1 


1 84  Richard  Wagner 

unconventional,  elemental.  Wagner  came  to  discern 
in  their  qualities  the  requisites  for  heroes  and  heroines 
of  the  lyric  drama.  And  from  the  philosophy  of 
Schopenhauer,  of  which  he  was  a  student,  he  drew 
encouragement  and  support. 

'  According  to  Schopenhauer  it  is  the  work  of  Art  to 
represent  for  us  the  eternal  essence  of  things  by  means 
of  prototypes.  The  human  mind  should  rise  above 
the  conditions  of  time  and  place,  cause  and  tendency, 
and  thus  come  to  the  contemplation  of  eternal  ideas. 
This  contemplation  is  the  privilege  and  the  duty  of 
Art.  Where,  then,  was  Wagner  to  find  eternal  ideas 
suitable  for  dramatic  treatment  except  in  their  per- 
sonifications in  mythology  ?  Certainly  they  were  not 
to  be  found  in  librettos  of  the  "  Semiramide "  or 
"  Sonnambula  "  variety.  Again  turning  his  eyes  to 
the  Greek  theatre,  he  found  that  y^schylus  and 
Sophocles  had  used  the  great  myths  of  their  people, 
and  that  by  doing  so  they  had  brought  their  theatre 
into  direct  relation  with  the  national  life  and  thought. 
Why,  then,  could  not  he,  by  using  the  myths  of  the 
Teutonic  races,  create  genuine  works  of  art  and  re- 
knit  the  bond  between  the  stage  and  the  national 
heart?  This  was  the  splendid  vision  which  dwelt  in 
his  mind  in  the  days  of  poverty  and  struggle.  It  was 
this  which  stayed  his  hand  when  easy  offers  of 
pecuniary  success  were  almost  within  his  grasp.  It 
was  this  hope  which  led  him  forever  away  from  the 
"pomp  and  circumstance"  of  the  historical  opera, 
and  brought  forth  works  whose  kinship  to  "  Rienzi  " 
is  so  difficult  to  trace. 
_The  myth,  then,  became  the  subject-matter  on  which 
he  reared  his  poetic  structure.     As  he  has  summarised 


The  Reforms  of  Wagner         185 

his  thoughts  on  this  topic  for  us  in  "A  Communica- 
tion to  My  Friends  "  it  may  be  well  to  quote  his 
words  : 

"  1  turned  for  the  selection  of  my  material  once  for  all  from  the  do- 
main of  history  to  that  of  legend.  ...  All  the  details  neces- 
sary for  the  description  and  preservation  of  the  conventionally  historic, 
which  a  fixed  and  limited  historical  epoch  demands  in  order  to  make 
the  action  clearly  intelligible — and  which  are  therefore  carried  out  so 
circumstantially  by  the  historical  novelists  and  dramatists  of  to-day — 
could  be  here  omitted.  And  by  this  means  the  poetry,  and  especially 
the  music,  were  freed  from  the  necessity  of  a  method  of  treatment  en- 
tirely foreign  to  them,  and  particularly  impossible  as  far  as  music  was 
concerned.  The  legend,  in  whatever  age  or  nation  it  may  be  placed, 
has  the  advantage  that  it  comprehends  only  the  purely  human  por- 
tion of  this  age  or  nation,  and  presents  this  portion  in  a  form  peculiar 
to  it,  thoroughly  concentrated,  and  therefore  easily  intelligible.  .  .  . 
This  legendary  character  gives  a  great  advantage  to  the  poetic  arrange- 
ment of  the  subject  for  the  reason  already  mentioned,  that,  while  the 
simple  process  of  the  action — easily  comprehensible  as  far  as  its  out- 
ward relations  are  concerned — renders  unnecessary  any  painstaking  for 
the  purpose  of  explanation  of  the  course  of  the  story,  the  greatest  pos- 
sible portion  of  the  poem  can  be  devoted  to  the  portrayal  of  the  inner 
motives  of  the  action — those  inmost  motives  of  the  soul,  which,  in- 
deed, the  action  points  out  to  us  as  necessary,  through  the  fact  that  we 
ourselves  feel  in  our  hearts  a  sympathy  with  them." 

With  the  idea  of  founding  a  national  drama  on  the 
great  mythological  thoughts  of  his  people,  and  keep- 
ing constantly  in  mind  the  conviction  that  his  business 
was  not  the  mere  telling  of  a  story  in  verse  and  music, 
but  the  presentation  to  the  minds  of  his  auditors  of 
the  underlying  emotions  of  the  drama,  he  quickly 
realised  that  the  set  forms  of  the  old  opera  were  of  no 
use  to  him.  He  could  not  construct  a  libretto  with 
the  regularly  recurring  duets,  trios,  and  ensembles,  if 
he  meant  to  be  true  to  dramatic  art.     To   abandon 


1 86  Richard  Wagner 

these  established  patterns,  however,  meant  to  throw 
over  both  the  poetic  and  musical  fashions  of  the  older 
lyric  writers.  If  his  people  were  not  to  sing  arias  and 
duets,  but  to  speak  a  convincing  dialogue,  with  speech 
raised  to  a  higher  power  by  the  use  of  music  instead 
of  blank  verse,  as  in  the  spoken  drama,  he  must  find 
new  types,  both  poetic  and  musical.  (But  with  Wag- 
ner it  must  be  constantly  borne  in  mind  that  the  dra- 
matic speech  is  not  text  first  and  music  afterward,  but 
is  both  at  once.  His  conception  of  the  talk  of  his 
dramas  was  that  of  words  made  vocal  in  the  musical 
sense  by  their  own  inner  demand  for  emotional  sym- 
bolism. In  other  words  the  music  must  be  the  direct 
and  inevitable  outgrowth  of  the  poetry^  and  the  two 
must  be  joined  in  a  perfect  organic  union.^' 

it  became  necessary,  therefore,  that  he  should  cast 
about  for  some  new  musical  form  for  the  foundation 
of  his  drama,  for  there  cannot  be  music  without  form. 
The  new  pattern  did  not  develop  itself  immediately  in 
his  mind.  The  first  principle  of  it  occurred  to  him 
when  he  was  writing  "Der  Fliegende  Hollander." 
This  first  principle  was  that  the  musical  expression  of 
a  particular  mood,  having  been  found,  should  be  re- 
tained. "When  a  mental  mood  returned,"  he  says, 
"its  thematic  expression  also,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
was  repeated,  since  it  would  have  been  arbitrary  and 
capricious  to  have  sought  another  motive  so  long  as 
the  object  was  an  intelligible  representation  of  the 
subject  and  not  a  conglomeration  of  operatic  pieces." 
This  at  once  disposed  of  the  aria,  which  was  a  com- 
pleted musical  piece.  ^Wagner  conceived  the  music 
to  be  inseparable  from  the  speech  and  therefore  to  be 
completed  only  at  the  end  of  the  drama.  The  melody 


The  Reforms  of  Wagner  187 

had  thus  to  become  endless,  a  melody  made  up  of 
many  thematic  ideas,  all  worked  up  wholly  for  the 
purpose  of  mood  painting,  and  built  into  a  grand  form 
dictated  and  justified  solely  by  the  emotional  scheme 
of  the  play.  With  this  conviction  he  steered  a  happy 
course  between  mere  formalism  and  chaotic  formless- 
ness. He  avoided  the  set  patterns  of  the  older  school 
and  escaped  the  dictation  by  the  verse  of  the  musical 
shape  and  figure,  yet  he  also  weathered  the  shoals  of 
musical  incoherency.  For  the  identification  of  the 
thematic  ideas  with  the  poetic  thoughts  enabled  him 
to  make  on  perfectly  logical  and  natural  grounds  those 
melodic  repetitions  without  which  music  is  devoid  of 
form. 

Every  student  of  music  knows  that  a  melody  is  con- 
structed of  certain  phrases  which  have  identifiable 
rhythmic  and  melodic  shape.  The  identity  of  any  tune 
is  established  by  the  repetition  of  these  phrases  in 
a  regular  order.  When  the  repetitions  are  arranged 
on  a  plan  similar  to  that  of  a  verse  of  poetry,  as  in 
the  case  of  such  a  tune  as  "Home,  Sweet  Home," 
the  form  of  the  music  becomes  that  known  as  the 
song  form,  which  lies  at  the  basis  of  nearly  every 
musical  composition  not  strictly  contrapuntal.  Any 
music  in  which  certain  melodic  shapes,  known  as 
figures,  are  not  preserved  and  repeated,  in  which  each 
phrase  once  heard  is  not  heard  again,  is  absolutely 
chaotic  and  does  not  convey  to  the  human  mind  the 
conception  of  design,  and  hence  also  not  of  melody. 
Wagner,  in  striving  to  avoid  the  musical  domination  of 
the  older  forms,  had  to  see  to  it  that  he  did  not  fall  into 
this  kind  of  chaos.  He  had  to  devise  a  larger  and  less 
confining  form,  but  he  had  to  have  a  form  nevertheless. 


1 88  Richard  Wagner 

But  as  soon  as  he  had  conceived  the  idea  of  pre- 
serving throughout  his  drama  the  first  thematic 
expression  of  any  mental  mood  or  idea,  he  had  the  so- 
lution of  his  problem  in  his  hands.  For  now  the  mu- 
sical repetitions  were  bound  to  become  numerous  and 
to  acquire  from  the  text  a  direct  and  unmistakable 
significance  which  they  could  not  possibly  have  by 
themselves.  And  the  criticism  to  which  this  form 
might  be  open,  if  it  were  used  as  a  purely  musical 
one,  at  once  falls  to  the  ground  when  it  is  remem- 
bered that  the  object  is  not  musical  alone,  but  also 
dramatic,  or  musico-textual.  The  organic  union  of 
the  word  and  the  tone  makes  the  assistance  given  by 
the  text  in  explaining  the  meaning  (sometimes  arbi- 
trary) of  the  music  entirely  defensible,  and  indeed 
thoroughly  commendable. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE   MUSICAL  SYSTEM 

In  its  details  this  Wagnerian  system  of  musico-text- 
ual  speech  divides  itself  into  music  constructed  of 
leading  motives,  or  themes  U'ith  a  specified  meaning, 
and  music  of  the  picture,  or  purely  scenic  music,  such 
as  that  of  the  sailors  in  the  first  scene  of  "Tristan 
und  Isolde,"  or  the  "Waldweben"  of  "Siegfried." 
And  again  the  sung  parts  of  the  score  divide  them- 
selves into  ordinary  speech,  or  quasi-recitative,  and 
the  speech  of  the  high  emotional  situation,  which  is 
either  intensely  declamatory  or  extraordinarily  melo- 
dious, according  to  the  nature  of  the  mood  which  has 
been  reached.*  A  further  feature  of  the  scheme, 
which  must  not  be  overlooked,  is  that  the  repetitions 
of  the  thematic  ideas  are  given  chiefly  to  the  orches- 
tra, which  thus  becomes  not  a  mere  accompaniment, 
but  a  most  potent  explicator  of  the  drama.  This 
treatment  of  the  orchestra  makes  it  the  creator  of  a 
musical  atmosphere  which  surrounds  the  actors  in  the 
drama.  Even  when  one  has  no  acquaintance  what- 
ever with  the  specified  meanings  of  the  "  leading  mo- 
tive"    ("leading"     should    read    "guiding"),     the 

*Even  the  purely  lyric  style  is  sometimes  employed  in  strong  situa- 
tions where  a  song  might  be  used,  as  in  the  case  of  Siegmund's  Love 
Song. 

189 


I  go  Richard  Wagner 

dramatic  influence  of  the  musical  background  is  such 
that  he  is  brought  into  a  complete  emotional  accord 
with  the  action  on  the  stage.  Thus  the  orchestra  be- 
comes a  most  potent  factor  in  demonstrating  and 
making  effective  Wagner's  tenet  that  "In  the  drama 
we  must  become  knowers  through  the  Feeling.  The 
Understanding  tells  us  'So  is  it,'  only  when  the  Feel- 
ing has  told  us,  '  So  must  it  be. '  "  It  was  with  thoughts 
of  this  in  his  mind  that  Wagner  wrote  on  Sept.  9, 
1850,  to  Herr  Von  Zigesar  : 

"  An  audience  which  assembles  in  a  fair  mood  is  satisfied  as  soon  as 
it  distinctly  understands  what  is  going  forward,  and  it  is  a  great  mis- 
take to  think  that  a  theatrical  audience  must  have  a  special  knowledge 
of  music  in  order  to  receive  the  right  impression  of  a  musical  drama. 
To  this  entirely  erroneous  opinion  we  have  been  brought  by  the  fact 
that  in  opera  music  has  wrongly  been  made  the  aim, — while  the 
drama  was  merely  a  means  for  the  display  of  the  music.  Music,  on 
the  contrary,  should  do  no  more  than  contribute  its  full  share  towards 
making  the  drama  clearly  and  quickly  comprehensible  at  every  mo- 
ment. While  listening  to  a  good — that  is,  a  rational — opera,  people 
should,  so  to  speak,  not  think  of  the  music  at  all,  but  only  feel  it  in  an 
unconscious  manner,  while  their  fullest  sympathy  should  be  wholly 
occupied  by  the  action  represented.  Every  audience  which  has  an  un- 
corrupted  sense  and  a  human  heart  is  therefore  welcome  to  me  as  long 
as  1  may  be  certain  that  the  dramatic  action  is  made  more  immediately 
comprehensible  and  moving  by  the  music,  instead  of  being  hidden  by 
it." 

From  the  actual  potency  of  Wagner's  music  in  pro- 
ducing the  proper  emotional  mood  in  the  auditor  and 
from  his  own  words,  such  as  the  above,  the  present 
writer  has  frequently  argued  that  an  intimate  acquain- 
tance with  the  leitmotiv  scheme  is  not  necessary  to  an 
understanding  of  the  Wagner  dramas.  To  compre- 
hend and  appreciate  the  grandeur  of  such  scenes  as 
the   "Todesverkundigung"  in    "Die  Walkure,"  the 


The  Musical  System  191 

death  of  Siegfried  and  tiie  immolation  of  Brunnhilde 
it  is  not  needful  to  be  able  to  catalogue  the  guiding 
themes  as  they  pass  through  the  vistas  of  the  glowing 
score.  All  that  is  essential  is  an  open  mind.  The 
eloquence  of  the  music  will  do  the  rest.  And  if  the 
guiding  motives  fail  to  create  the  proper  emotional 
investiture  for  the  same,  then  they  are  valueless,  even  at 
Wagner's  own  rating,  for  he  says  that  we  must  Jjeel 
before  we  can  understand  a  drama.  And  we  our- 
selves can  readily  see  how  useless  it  is  to  tell  us 
the  specified  meanings  of  sweet  musical  phrases  if 
they  do  not,  when  heard,  help  to  warm  into  a  vital- 
ising glow  the  significance  of  the  text  and  action. 
If  they  fail  to  do  this,  the  organic  union  so  ardently 
sought  by  Wagner  does  not  exist.  If  they  succeed, 
it  matters  not  at  all  whether  we  know  their  names. 

But  we  are  all  Elsas  to  these  Lohengrins  and  Wag- 
ner himself  was  one  of  the  Ortruds,  for  he  has 
tempted  us  to  ask  the  question,  which  is,  fortunately 
for  us,  not  fatal  to  our  happiness.  It  becomes  na- 
tural and  proper  therefore  for  every  student  of  this 
master's  works  to  take  cognisance  of  the  leitmotiv 
system  and  to  aim  at  a  thorough  comprehension  of 
its  nature  and  its  purpose.  These  have  been  very 
often  misrepresented,  and,  even  by  many  devoted 
admirers  of  Wagner's  works,  are  yet  misunderstood. 

It  was  out  of  his  first  conviction  that  the  musical 
embodiment  of  a  mood  having  once  been  found 
should  not  be  changed  that  the  leit  motif  system 
grew.  This  first  conviction  led  him  to  adopt  in 
"Der  Fliegende  Hollander"  certain  musical  phrases 
as  typical  of  principal  ideas  in  the  play.  He  made  a 
theme  for  the  Dutchman's  personality,  a  melody  for 


192  Richard  Wagner 

his  longing,  another  for  the  personality  of  Santa,  the 
redeeming  potency  in  the  drama.  In  making  these 
themes  he  sought  to  render  them  expressive  not  only 
of  their  primary  dramatic  ideas,  but  of  the  beauti- 
ful symbolism  which  lay  behind  these  ideas.  As  this 
symbolism  appealed  largely  to  the  sensibility  of  the 
hearer,  it  was  peculiarly  fitting  that  he  should  sum- 
mon the  aid  of  the  music  to  the  work  for  which  it  was 
best  suited,  namely  the  awakening  of  the  sensibilities 
and  through  them  of  the  emotions. 

Out  of  this  first  experimental  use  of  leading  themes, 
Wagner  gradually  advanced  to  a  complete  and  elabo- 
rate system.  The  student  will  look  in  vain  for  the 
finished  system  in  "Tannhauser"  and  "Lohengrin," 
In  the  former  of  these  two  works  the  leit  motif  is  not 
employed  and  there  is  rather  a  tendency  to  use  what 
is  called  "music  of  the  scene  "  as  a  reminder  of  the 
place  of  the  occurrence  of  aji  action  than  to  repeat 
music  expressive  of  the  emotion  lying  behind  the  ac- 
tion itself.  In  "Lohengrin,"  however,  one  finds  the 
leading  motive  employed  in  a  few  instances  in  pre- 
cisely the  same  manner  as  it  is  in  "Siegfried"  or 
"Tristan,"  but  not  with  the  same  persistency.  It 
was  in  the  construction  of  the  great  trilogy  and  its 
prologue  that  he  found  the  full  value  of  his  system  of 
musical  cross-references,  for  in  the  vast  complexity 
of  this  story,  the  explanatory  force  of  music  to  which 
a  direct  meaning  had  been  given  was  afforded  the 
widest  possible  field  of  action. 

The  student  of  the  system  will  find  that  the  leading 
motives,  guiding  themes,  typical  phrases,  or  whatever 
one  pleases  to  call  them,  are  of  several  kinds.  Some 
are  employed  very  arbitrarily,  it  must  be  admitted,  but 


The  Musical  System  193 

the  text  always  makes  their  meaning  clear  and  there- 
after one  easily  understands  the  composer's  intent. 
They  may  be  divided  as  follows  :  motives  of  per- 
sonalities, as  the  Donner,  the  Siegfried-Hero,  the 
Brunnhilde  motive  ;  those  of  the  moving  forces  of  the 
drama,  as  the  contract,  the  need  of  the  Gods,  and 
the  curse  ;  those  of  the  tjibal  or  racial  elements,  as  the 
Volsung,  or  the  Nibelung  motive  ;  those  of  places, 
objects,  and  occupations,  as  the  smithy,  the  sword, 
the  Walhalla,  and  those  of  the  scene,  as  the  Rhine 
music,  the  forging,  and  the  fire  music.  This  is  a  rude 
classification,  but  it  will  answer  the  present  object, 
which  is  an  exposition  of  the  nature  and  aims  of  the 
system.  The  music  of  the  tribal  or  racial  elements 
and  that  of  the  scene,  the  student  will  find,  is  seldom 
modified  in  the  course  of  the  drama,  while  that  relat- 
ing to  personalities  is  often  changed  in  conformity 
with  alterations  in  the  characters  of  which  it  is  typi- 
cal. In  "Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen"  the  motives  of 
the  Tarnhelm,  the  gold,  the  Rhine,  the  sword,  the 
dragon,  and  similar  musical  devices  retain  their  origi- 
nal form  almost  always,  though  occasionally  the  de- 
mands of  harmony  and  figure  call  for  more  or  less 
altered  suggestions  of  them. 

But  the  personal  themes  are  sometimes  submitted 
to  the  processes  of  thematic  development  employed 
in  symphonic  composition,  and  this  resource  of  music 
is  always  used  by  Wagner  with  a  direct  intention  to 
depict  some  development  of  character.  The  system 
of  alteration  may  be  summarised  in  this  rule  :  if  the 
object  represented  in  the  music  is  one  subject  to 
change,  its  representative  theme  is  liable  to  develop- 
ment, but  otherwise  it  will  keep  its  original  form. 


194  Richard  Wagner 

unless  there  is  a  musical  necessity  for  slight  change  or 
the  possibility  of  dramatic  suggestion  in  it.  Those 
familiar  with  the  dramas  will  recall  that  in  the  last 
scene  of  "  Gotterdammerung  "  the  Rhine  music  un- 
dergoes a  harmonic  change  eloquently  expressive  of 
the  mood  of  the  Rhine  maidens  after  the  refusal  of 
Siegfried  to  return  the  ring.  It  will  be  found,  too, 
that  any  scenic  music  which  is  designed  for  more 
than  one  hearing  has  a  deeper  purpose  than  mere  pic- 
torical  description  and  is  designed  as  an  aid  in  the 
creation  of  a  proper  mood  of  receptivity  in  the  audi- 
tor, and  thus  as  an  assistance  to  complete  under- 
standing. 

In  the  earlier  dramas  the  proportion  of  scenic  music 
to  what  may  be  called  expository  music  is  large. 
One  finds  many  pages  of  "  Lohengrin,"  for  example, 
which  consist  of  purely  scenic  writing.  The  arrival 
of  Lohengrin  and  the  combat  in  the  first  act,  the  ap- 
proach to  the  cathedral  in  the  second,  the  bridal 
chorus — these,  when  examined,  are  found  to  be  pure 
music  of  the  scene.  The  motives  which  are  repeated 
with  specified  significance  are  few,  and  they  deal 
chiefly  with  the  moving  forces  of  the  drama,  the 
Grail  and  the  fatal  question,  the  hatred  of  Ortrud  and 
the  knightly  power  of  Lohengrin. 

But  the  early  works  of  Wagner  show  his  musical 
system  in  its  embryonic  state,  and,  while  the  study  of 
the  scores  is  from  that  point  of  view  particularly  in- 
teresting, for  satisfactory  illustrations  of  the  method 
we  must  go  to  the  later  dramas.  Here  we  are  con- 
stantly confronted  with  evidence  of  Wagner's  sincer- 
ity of  purpose,  his  unflagging  endeavour  to  achieve 
that  organic  union  of  text  and  music  which  was  so 


The  Musical  System 


195 


dear  to  his  heart.  In  "  Das  Rheingold,"  for  instance, 
occurs  for  the  first  time  a  theme  to  be  heard  often  jn 
the  subsequent  dramas,  the  theme  of  the  sword. 
The  composer  was  not  content  to  make  a  theme  of 
any  sort  and  arbitrarily  call  it  the  sword  motive.  He 
tried  to  produce  something  which  should  suggest  the 
swprd  and  the  heroic  uses  to  which  it  was  to  be  put, 
and  thus  he  composed  this  brilliant  and  martial  theme, 
i^ntoned  by  a  trumpet : 


Another  artistically  constructed  motive,  which  may 
be  quoted  here,  is  that  representative  of  the  Tarnhelm, 
the  mystic  cap  which  Mime  makes  for  Alberich  and 
which  renders  the  wearer  invisible.  In  this  motive 
Wagner  creates  the  atmosphere  of  mystery  by  making 
the  tonality  of  the  music  uncertain  through  the  use 
of  the  empty  "fifth."     Some  of  the  most  effective 


themes  are  those  which  are  associated  with  personal- 
ities in  their  visible  aspects,  as  the  fire  music,  which 
i"epresents  Loge,  and  the  "  Ritt-Motiv,"  or  galloping 
figure,  of  Kundry  in  "  Parsifal."  Motives  of  this  kind 
Wagner  devised  with  great  musical  skill,  for  they  im- 
press the  mind  of  the  hearer  in  two  ways,  bringing 
before  it  a  part  of  the  pictorial  movement  of  the  drama 
and  also  representing  certain  personal  attributes,  while 


196  Richard  Wagner 

at  the  same  time  they  are  so  made  that  they  read- 
ily lend  themselves  to  thematic  variation  without 
losing  their  identity. 

The  attentive  listener  to  these  later  dramas  of  Wag- 
ner, then,  will  find,  in  the  fully  developed  musical 
system,  voice  parts  which  consist  of  dedamation  occa- 
sionally rising  into  the  sublimest  kind  of  arioso,  with- 
out once  sacrificing  the  poetic  spirit  to  any  demand 
of  mere  musical  formalism,  and  an  orchestral  accom- 
paniment which  is  not  an  accompaniment  in  the 
sense  of  merely  affording  support  to  the  singer's 
voice,  but  is  independent  and  expressive  of  much  that 
the  actors  do  not  utter.  This  expressiveness  is  gained 
by  the  employment  of  themes  to  which  a  definite 
meaning  has  been  attached,  no  matter  how  arbitrar- 
ily, by  their  association  with  a  picture,  an  action, 
a  personality,  or  a  thought.  This  association  is  made 
perfectly  comprehensible  to  every  listener  who  bears  in 
mind  that  the  text  is  the  explanation  of  this  music, 
and  its  only  explanation.  The  music  never  exists  for 
its  own  sake,  but  is  a  vital  part  of  the  speech  of  the 
drama.  The  orchestra  is  always  an  explicator,  never 
a  mere  support.  And  here  and  there  we  meet 
with  passages  of  merely  descriptive  or  scenic  music, 
in  which  not  even  guiding  themes  of  scenic  nature 
are  used.  The  ultimate  purpose  of  the  entire 
musical  scheme  is  organic  union  with  the  text  so 
that  the  music  shall  give  perfect  expression  to  the 
drama  of  emotions  which  is  being  enacted,  and 
place  the  hearer  in  the  proper  moods  for  the  recep- 
tion of  it.  While  all  the  old  musical  forms  employed 
in  opera  are  abandoned,  Wagner  avoids  formless- 
ness by   the   repetition    of    identified   themes.      In 


The  Musical  System  197 

summing  up  this  important  matter  let  me  quote 
Wagner's  own  words  from  "A  Communication  to 
My  Friends  "  : 

"  This  opera  form  [the  old  form]  was  never  of  its  very  nature  a 
form  embracing  the  whole  drama,  but  rather  an  arbitrary  conglomerate 
of  separate  smaller  forms  of  song,  whose  fortuitous  concatenation  of 
arias,  duos,  trios,  etc.,  with  choruses  and  so-called  ensemble-pieces, 
made  out  the  actual  edifice  of  opera.  In  the  poetic  fashioning  of 
my  stuffs  [materials]  it  was  henceforth  impossible  for  me  to  con- 
template a  filling  of  these  ready-moulded  forms,  but  solely  a  bringing 
of  the  drama's  broader  object  to  the  cognisance  of  the  feeling.  In  the 
whole  course  of  the  drama  I  saw  no  possibility  of  division  or  demarca- 
tion, other  than  the  acts  in  which  the  place  or  time,  or  the  scenes  in 
which  the  dramatis  persoitiV  change.  Moreover  the  plastic  unity  of 
the  mythic  stuff  brought  with  it  this  advantage,  that,  in  the  arrange- 
ment of  my  scenes,  all  those  minor  details  which  the  modern  play- 
wright finds  so  indispensable  for  the  elucidation  of  involved  historical 
occurrences  were  quite  unnecessary,  and  the  whole  strength  of  the 
portrayal  could  be  concentrated  upon  a  few  weighty  and  decisive 
moments  of  development.  Upon  the  working  out  of  these  fewer 
scenes  in  each  of  which  a  decisive  '  Stimmung '  [mood]  was  to  be 
given  its  full  play,  1  might  linger  with  an  exhaustiveness  already 
reckoned  for  in  the  original  draft  ;  1  was  not  compelled  to  make  shift 
with  mere  suggestions,  and  —  for  the  sake  of  economy  —  to  hasten  on 
from  one  suggestion  to  another  ;  but  with  needful  repose  I  could  dis- 
play the  simple  object  in  the  very  last  connections  required  to  bring  it 
home  to  the  dramatic  understanding.  Through  this  natural  attribute 
of  the  stuff  I  was  not  in  the  least  coerced  to  strain  the  planning  of  my 
scenes  into  any  preconceived  conformity  with  given  musical  forms, 
since  they  dictated  of  themselves  their  mode  of  musical  completion. 
In  the  ever  surer  feeling  hereof  it  thus  could  no  more  occur  to  me  to 
rack  with  wilful  outward  canons  the  musical  form  that  sprang  self- 
bidden  from  the  very  nature  of  these  scenes,  to  break  its  natural  mould 
by  violent  grafting-in  of  conventional  slips  of  operatic  song.  Thus  I 
by  no  means  set  out  with  the  fixed  purpose  of  a  deliberate  iconoclast 
[Formumanderer — lit.,  changer  of  forms],  to  destroy,  forsooth,  the 
prevailing  operatic  forms  of  aria,  duet,  etc.,  but  the  omission  of 
these  forms  followed  from  the  very  nature  of  the  stuff,  with  whose 


1 98  Richard  Wagner 

intelligible  presentment  to  the  feeling  through  an  adequate  vehicle  I 
alone  had  to  do.     .     .     . 

"Just  as  the  joinery  of  my  individual  scenes  excluded  every  alien 
and  unnecessary  detail,  and  led  all  interest  to  the  dominant  Chief- 
mood,  so  did  the  whole  building  of  my  drama  pin  itself  into  one 
organic  unity,  whose  easily  surveyed  members  were  made  out  by  those 
fewer  scenes  and  situations  which  set  the  passing  mood:  no  mood  could 
be  permitted  to  be  struck  in  any  one  of  these  scenes  that  did  not  stand 
in  a  weighty  relation  to  the  mood  of  all  the  other  scenes,  so  that  the 
development  of  the  moods  from  out  each  other,  and  the  constant 
obviousness  of  this  development,  should  establish  the  unity  of  the 
drama  in  its  very  mode  of  expression.  Each  of  these  Chief-moods,  in 
keeping  with  the  nature  of  the  stuff,  must  also  gain  a  definite  musical 
expression,  which  should  display  itself  to  the  sense  of  hearing  as  a  defi- 
nite musical  theme.  Just  as  in  the  progress  of  the  drama  the  intended 
climax  of  a  decisory  Chief-mood  was  only  to  be  reached  through  a  de- 
velopment, continuously  present  to  the  feeling,  of  the  individual  moods 
already  roused,  so  must  the  musical  expression,  which  directly  influ- 
ences the  physical  feeling,  necessarily  take  a  decisive  share  in  this 
development  to  a  climax  ;  and  this  was  brought  about  quite  of  itself, 
in  the  shape  of  a  characteristic  issue  of  principal  themes,  that  spread 
itself  not  over  one  scene  only  (as  heretofore  in  separate  operatic  '  num- 
bers'),  but  over  the  whole  drama,  and  that  in  intimate  connection  with 
the  poetic  aim." 

Where  Gluck  had  sought  to  make  music  enforce 
the  expression  of  the  sentiment  of  the  text,  Wagner 
aimed  to  make  it  the  very  expression  itself,  and  in  fol- 
lowing out  this  purpose  he  elaborated  the  system  of 
musical  presentation  of  the  content  of  a  drama  which 
carried  him  entirely  away  from  the  beaten  paths  of 
opera.  It  was  the  radical  departure  of  his  system 
which  aroused  the  opposition  of  a  deep  misunder- 
standing. His  contemporaries  saw  what  he  had 
abolished  from  his  works,  but  could  not  comprehend 
the  substitute.  And  even  to-day,  when  the  Wagner 
drama   is  accepted   the  world  over,   there   is  still  a 


The  Musical  System  199 

general  failure  to  understand  that  the  leitmotiv  sys- 
tem was  conceived  as  the  only  preservation  of  neces- 
sary musical  method  in  a  drama  which  had  banished 
from  its  scheme  the  use  of  the  established  operatic 
forms. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  SYSTEM   AS   COMPLETED 

Wagner,  in  striving  for  a  complete  and  natural  re- 
velation of  the  emotional  content  of  his  dramas,  dis- 
covered that  the  continual  flow  of  music  which  he 
had  adopted  was  not  possible  if  fixed  verse-figures 
were  employed.  The  verse-figure  prescribes  and 
limits  the  musical  figure.  Nevertheless  there  must  be 
some  rhythmic  principle  in  the  verse.  Wagner  found 
that  which  was  most  suited  to  his  needs  in  the  ancient 
staff-rhyme,  or  alliterative  verse.  The  fundamental 
basis  of  this  verse  is  consonance  of  sounds,  not  con- 
fined to  the  final  rhyme  but  employed  in  the  body  of 
the  verse  and  thus  made  a  part  of  its  inner  nature. 
Not  a  little  excellent  information  as  to  the  exact 
nature  of  the  alliterative  verse  may  be  obtained  from 
the  introductory  essay  to  the  second  volume  of  Percy's 
"  Reliques."  It  should  be  mentioned  that  Percy  was 
acquainted  with  Icelandic  literature  and  first  made  it 
known  in  England  when  he  translated  Mallet's 
"Northern  Antiquities."  He  tells  us  that  the  Ice- 
landic language  is  of  the  same  origin  as  the  Anglo- 
Saxon,  and  that  was  the  reason  why  both  employed 
the  staff-rhyme.  The  alliteration  consisted  in  "  a  cer- 
tain artful  repetition  of  sounds  in  the  middle  of  the 
verses.     This  was  adjusted  according  to  their  rules  of 


The  System  as  Completed        201 

prosody,  one  of  which  was  that  every  distich  should 
contain  at  least  three  words  beginning  with  the  same 
letter  or  sound.  Two  of  these  correspondent  sounds 
might  be  placed  either  in  the  first  or  second  line  of  the 
distich,  and  one  in  the  other  ;  but  all  three  were  not 
regularly  to  be  crowded  into  one  line.  This  will  best 
be  understood  by  the  following  examples  "  : 

"  Meire  og  Minne  Gab  Ginunga 

Moga  heimdaller.  Enn  Gras  huerge." 

This  verse  was  used  by  the  old  poets  of  the  Saxons 
in  Britain.  The  epic  of  "  Beowulf"  is  written  in  this 
style  and  so  are  the  poems  of  Caedmon,  the  noted 
paraphraser  of  the  scriptures.  An  authoritative  writer 
says  : 

"  The  poetry  of  the  Anglo-Saxons  was  neither  modulated  according 
to  foot-measure,  like  that  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  nor  written  with 
rhymes,  like  that  of  modern  languages.  Its  chief  and  universal  char- 
acteristic was  a  very  regular  alliteration,  so  arranged  that  in  every 
couplet  there  should  be  two  principal  words  in  the  first  line  beginning 
with  the  same  letter,  which  letter  must  also  be  the  initial  of  the  fust 
word  on  which  the  stress  of  the  voice  falls  in  the  second  line.  The 
only  approach  to  a  metrical  system  yet  discovered  is  that  two  risings 
and  two  fallings  of  the  voice  seem  necessary  to  each  perfect  line." 

A  Specimen  of  this  alliterative  verse  from  the  works 
of  Caedmon  shows  the  peculiarity  of  the  construction. 

"  Se  him  cwom  to  frofre. 
&  to  feorh-nere. 
Mid  lufan  &  mid  lisse. 
Se  thone  lig  tosceaf. 
Halig  and  heofon-beohrt. 
Hatan  fyres. 
Tosweop  hine  &  toswende. 


202  Richard  Wagner 

Thurh  tha  swithan  miht. 
Ligges  leoma."* 

The  reader  will  note  the  alliteration  of  the  I's  in  the 
third  and  fourth  lines,  and  the  h's  in  the  next  two. 
The  change  in  vowel  sounds  following  the  consonants 
was  deemed  by  Wagner  as  of  especial  value  in  music. 

As  the  English  language  developed,  this  method  of 
rhythmic  construction  remained  in  use,  and  we  find 
that  it  is  used  in  such  old  poems  as  "  Piers  Plowman's 
Vision"  (about  1350). 

"  In  a  Somer  Season  when  hot  was  the  Sunne, 
I  Shope  me  into  Shroubs  as  I  a  Shepe  were  ; 
Habite  as  an  Harmet,  unHoly  of  werkes, 
Went  Wyde  in  thys  world  Wonders  to  heare." 

Wagner,  however,  modelled  his  verse  on  that  of  the 
original  writers  of  it,  as  their  language  was  more 
closely  affiliated  with  German  than  the  early  English 
was.  He  made  an  exhaustive  study  of  the  constitu- 
tion of  the  staff-rhyme,  and  saw  in  its  conservation 
of  the  elementary  principles  of  poetic  speech  the 
factor  necessary  to  the  perfection  of  an  organic  union 
with  music.  For  those  who  have  studied  the  con- 
ventional formulas  of  musical  expression — the  major 

*  Who  to  them  came  for  comfort, 
And  for  their  lives'  salvation, 
With  love  and  with  grace  ; 
Who  the  flames  scattered 
(Holy  and  heaven-bright) 
Of  the  hot  fire, 
Swept  at  and  dashed  away, 
Through  his  great  might, 
The  beams  of  flame. 

— Paraphrase  of  the  Song  of  Azariah. 
Thorpe's  translation. 


The  System  as  Completed        203 

and  minor  modes,  chromatic  progressions,  the  de- 
clamatory style  as  opposed  to  the  pure  cantilena,  the 
crescendo  and  diminuendo,  the  agitato — know  that 
all  these  have  been  transferred  from  the  natural  em- 
ployment of  vocal  tone  and  articulation  in  speech  as 
influenced  by  the  emotions  which  these  musical  sym- 
bols are  intended  to  represent.  And  we  know,  too, 
that  the  reflex  action  of  music  in  producing  in  the 
hearer  the  emotions  which  it  aims  to  depict  is  due  to 
its  adoption  of  methods  founded  on  man's  oral  ex- 
pression of  his  feeling.  Wagner  saw  in  the  staff- 
rhyme  the  first  attempt  to  systemise  into  poetry  the 
elevated  speech  of  emotion,  and  he  discerned  in  it 
technical  features  admirably  suited  to  his  plan.  In 
"Opera  and  Drama"  he  says  : 

"  In  Stabreim  the  kindred  speech-roots  are  fitted  to  one  another  in 
such  a  way  that,  just  as  they  sound  alike  to  the  physical  ear,  they 
also  knit  like  objects  into  one  collective  image  in  which  the  Feeling 
may  utter  its  conclusions  about  them.  Their  sensibly  cognisable  re- 
semblance they  win  either  from  a  kinship  of  the  vowel  sounds, 
especially  when  these  stand  open  in  front  without  any  initial  con- 
sonant ('  Erb  und  eigen.'  '  Immer  und  ewig  ');  or  from  the  sameness 
of  the  initial  consonant  itself,  which  characterises  the  likeness  as  one 
belonging  peculiarly  to  the  object  (' Ross  und  Reiter.'  '  Froh  und 
frei  ');  or  again,  from  the  sameness  of  the  terminal  consonant  that 
closes  up  the  root  from  behind  (as  an  assonance),  provided  the  in- 
dividualising force  of  the  word  lies  in  that  terminal  ('  Hand  und 
Mund.'     '  Recht  und  Pflicht  ')•" 

The  fruits  of  these  philological  considerations  reveal 
themselves  to  the  hearer  of  the  works  in  a  wonderfully 
delicate  perfection  of  accentuation  and  cadence,  which 
simulates  that  of  the  spoken  line  in  a  vivifying  man- 
ner. One  has  only  to  read,  as  one  would  naturally 
speak,  such   words  as  "  Winterstiirme  wichen  dem 


204  Richard  Wagner 

Wonnemond,"  and  then  sing  them  to  the  opening  notes 
of  "  Siegmund's  Love  Song  "  to  see  how  beautifully 
this  staff-rhyme  adapts  itself  to  the  needs  of  what  Wag- 
ner called  "Word-tone-speech,"  an  expression  which 
explains  itself.  Furthermore,  these  lines  of  staflF-rhyme 
have  no  metrical  domination  over  the  music.  A  single 
reading  of  any  familiar  passage  in  the  later  works 
will  show  the  reader  that  the  lines  of  the  verse  do  not 
set  the  limits  for  the  phrases  of  the  music  as  they  do 
in  the  old  song  forms,  but  that  the  composer  is  en- 
tirely free  in  his  phraseology,  while  he  can  never 
quite  obliterate  the  rhythmic  basis  of  the  verse.  This 
plasticity  was  of  inestimable  importance  in  the  Wag- 
nerian system,  with  its  endless  melody,  its  indepen- 
dent accompaniments,  and  its  disuse  of  the  old  forms. 

We  have  now  made  an  examination  of  the  artistic 
aims  and  methods  of  Wagner.  The  reader  should 
now  be  able  to  grasp  the  basic  truth  that  his  mature 
works  are  not  to  be  viewed  as  operas  but  as  poetic 
dramas.  The  argument  is  frequently  made  that  no 
serious  criticism  of  opera  is  necessary  because  it  is 
an  absurdity  throughout.  People  do  not  sing  ;  there- 
fore all  attempts  at  dramatic  verity  in  the  lyric  drama 
are  useless.  And  from  this  is  drawn  the  conclusion 
that  it  makes  no  difference  whether  composers  write 
pretty  tunes  merely  for  their  own  sake,  and  use  the  set 
forms  and  conventions  of  the  old  opera,  or  write  an 
endless  recitation  with  an  orchestral  background.  The 
object  should  be  to  please,  and  since  the  entertain- 
ment is  musical,  let  us  have  pretty  tunes  at  all  costs. 

The  same  arguments,  of  course,  apply  in  a  way  to 
all  forms  of  the  poetic  drama.  People  do  not  speak 
blank  verse,  nor  talk  in  metaphors.     It  is  altogether 


The  System  as  Completed        205 

improbable  that  Henry  V.  or  Richard  11.  or  Macbeth 
even  rose  to  such  heights  of  speech  as  Shakespeare's 
personages.  The  ground  upon  which  the  poetic 
drama  rests  is  that  of  symbolism,  and  in  the  lyric  play 
this,  by  reason  of  the  flexibility  of  music,  may  reach 
its  highest  elevation.  The  symbolism  of  the  Wag- 
nerian drama  is  both  poetic  and  musical.  With  the 
former  I  shall  attempt  to  deal  in  the  study  of  the  in- 
dividual plays  ;  but  of  the  musical  symbolism  it  may 
here  be  said  that  while  technically  the  speech  of  the 
Wagnerian  drama  is  but  blank  verse  raised  by  song  to 
its  highest  power,  the  representation  of  emotional 
moods  by  the  musical  symbols,  vocal  or  orchestral,  is 
cast  in  a  mould  far  grander  than  that  of  the  spoken 
drama,  and  its  influence  upon  the  auditor  is  immeas- 
urably larger.  If  by  the  employment  of  these  musical 
symbols  the  dramatist  can  cause  the  auditor  to  throb 
with  the  emotions  of  the  personages  in  the  drama, 
he  has  accomplished  the  ultimate  aim  of  his  art  and 
justified  his  form. 

To  achieve  this  result  requires  perfect  sincerity  on 
the  part  of  the  dramatist  and  the  most  exquisite  ad- 
aptation of  the  theatrical  means  to  the  end  in  view. 
The  old  opera  had  abandoned  all  but  a  shallow  pre- 
tence of  these,  and  had  given  itself  to  the  easy  busi- 
ness of  tickling  the  ear.  Wagner's  work  is  an  appeal 
to  the  intelligence  through  the  feeling.  His  ambition 
was  to  give  the  lyric  theatre  vitality  and  an  influence 
with  the  public.  To  do  this  he  was  forced  to  abandon 
all  that  he  found  ready  to  hand,  and  to  build  again 
from  the  foundations.  In  doing  so  he  restored  some 
of  the  outward  semblance  of  the  conventions.  He 
wrote   duets,  as  in  the  second  act  of  "  Tristan  und 


2o6  Richard  Wagner 

Isolde."  But  he  did  this  with  a  perfect  comprehen- 
sion of  the  power  of  music  to  symbolise  an  emotional 
state  shared  by  two  lovers.  On  the  other  hand,  he 
raised  the  orchestra  to  the  position  of  an  exponent  of 
the  dramatic  thought,  and  this,  again,  was  done  with  a 
masterly  conception  of  the  potency  of  absolute  music 
in  painting  mood-pictures.  Here  he  found  an  agency 
for  symbolism  in  the  poetic  drama  far  beyond  the 
loftiest  dreams  of  the  poet  of  the  spoken  play. 

The  motto  of  the  attendant  at  Wagner  performances, 
then,  must  be,  "The  play  's  the  thing,"  and  he  must 
measure  their  value  and  estimate  their  influence  upon 
him  wholly  from  that  point  of  view.  A  drama  in 
music  was  the  conception  of  the  originators  of  what 
came  to  be  called  Opera  ;  but  it  had  been,  as  we  have 
seen,  lost  to  sight  in  Wagner's  youth  by  reason  of  the 
immense  popularity  of  the  easily  made  productions  of 
Rossini,  Donizetti,  and  Bellini,  in  which  the  music  was 
the  ultimate  object  and  the  libretto  only  a  means 
toward  its  production.  Wagner's  ideal  was  a  drama 
in  which  music  should  he  a  factor  valuable  wholly  be- 
cause of  its  power  to  embody  and  convey  emotions. 
That  such  a  form  of  drama  departed  from  the  more 
material  realism  of  the  spoken  play  was  not  a  matter 
to  trouble  a  profoundly  aesthetic  intellect.  Wagner, 
like  the  greatest  masters  in  all  forms  of  art,  was  op- 
posed to  that  kind  of  realism  which  bases  its  claims 
on  its  copying  of  mere  objects  or  external  phenomena. 
This  is  the  cheap  realism  of  the  sensational  drama, 
which  puts  fire  engines  and  hansom  cabs  and  profes- 
sional burglars  on  the  stage,  and  holds  that  it  thus 
reproduces  human  life.  It  is,  perhaps,  a  form  of  art, 
but  it  is  a  low  one,  because  it  has  not  the  imaginative 


The  System  as  Completed        207 

or  symbolical  elements  which  are  essential  to  high 
art.  It  is  the  art  which  copies,  not  that  which  creates. 
The  painter  who  reproduces  on  his  canvas  a  group 
of  flowers  or  a  human  form  may  be  a  master  of  the 
technics  of  painting,  but  the  fervid  imagination  of 
Turner's  "Slave  Ship,"  with  its  ill-drawn  figures,  is 
worth  a  thousand  copies  of  real  things. 

As  art  rises  in  the  scale  of  nobility,  it  appeals  more 
and  more  to  the  imagination,  till  it  reaches  that  point 
at  which,  in  Schumann's  words,  "only  genius  under- 
stands genius."  Advancing  along  this  path,  art  tends 
always  toward  the  employment  of  symbolism.  Poetry 
is  in  every  nation  the  first  and  most  convincing  de- 
monstration of  the  feeling  of  humanity  for  symbolical 
expression.  Poetic  forms  are  in  themselves  symbolic, 
and  the  figures  of  speech  employed  in  them  are  word- 
symbols  meant  to  awaken  the  imaginative  powers  of 
the  reader.  The  drama  in  its  earliest  phases  was 
purely  artistic,  coupling,  as  it  did,  the  symbolism  of  a 
highly  organised  mythology  with  poetic  speech.  The 
blank-verse  plays  of  Shakespeare  are  filled  with  the 
noblest  symbolism  of  the  spoken  play,  and  those  who 
decry  them  as  unreal  because  of  their  poetic  form  and 
diction  show  an  utter  inability  to  understand  artistic 
design. 

In  its  inception  the  opera  was,  as  we  have  seen,  an 
attempt  to  revive  the  form  of  the  antique  drama  of 
Greece.  Its  originators  cherished  an  honest  purpose, 
but  their  knowledge  was  not  sufficient  to  carry  it  to  a 
successful  issue.  Neither  had  they  at  their  command 
a  rich  enough  materia  musica,  for  until  their  day  com- 
posers had  devoted  themselves  to  the  expression 
of  contemplative   religious  feeling  and   the   musical 


2o8  Richard  Wagner 

symbols  of  human  passion  were  yet  undeveloped.  Un- 
fortunately for  the  "Drama  per  musica,"  as  the  early 
masters  called  it,  the  tirst  attempts  at  the  construction 
of  definite  operatic  forms  led  directly  away  from  the 
honesty  of  dramatic  art  and  turned  opera  into  a  series 
of  tunes,  each  complete  in  itself,  and  strung  upon  a 
slender  thread  of  recitative.  Wagner,  setting  out  as 
he  did  to  build  a  national  drama,  had  no  reason  what- 
ever for  following  the  methods  of  the  Italian  com- 
posers. His  aim  was  to  embody  certain  national 
thoughts,  as  projected  in  the  great  folk-legends  of  the 
Teutonic  people,  in  artistic  plays,  and  to  use  for  that 
embodiment  the  most  influential  means  at  his  com- 
mand. Music  was  his  vocal  instrument  instead  of 
speech,  not  simply  because  he  was  a  musician,  but 
also  because  he  was  convinced  that  it  would  afford 
him  the  loftiest  utterance  for  the  emotional  substance 
of  his  dramas. 

For  these  were  not  to  be  dramas  in  which  the  mere 
telling  of  a  story  was  the  object  in  view.  The  drama 
was  to  be,  not  a  series  of  incidents  of  pictorial  effi- 
ciency, but  a  development  of  feelings  and  an  exhibi- 
tion of  typical  humanity,  embracing  those  wonderful 
world-heroes  and  heroines  into  whose  conception 
have  been  poured  the  concentrated  imaginings  of 
several  races  and  centuries.  For  such  a  play  as  "  Tris- 
tan und  Isolde,"  in  which  the  movement  is  entirely 
emotional  and  not  incidental,  the  spoken  form  would 
have  been  prolix  and  wearisome.  This  play,  given 
without  music,  would  become  a  dreary  stretch  of  talk. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  simplicity  of  the  action  and  the 
intensity  of  the  emotions  permit  the  composer  to 
expend  his  entire  force  upon  the  musical  expression 


The  System  as  Completed        209 

of  feeling,  thereby  confining  himself  strictly  to  the 
province  of  music  and  raising  the  symbolism  of  the 
drama  to  the  highest  power.  Herein  lies  one  of 
the  principal  differences  between  the  spoken  and  the 
sung  play.  Yet  in  it  also  is  to  be  seen  a  demonstra- 
tion of  the  indisputable  fact  that  the  works  of  Wagner 
are  dramas.  So,  then,  we  must  view  them  ;  and,  so 
doing,  we  shall  approach  the  contemplation  of  Wag- 
ner's art  work  from  the  point  desired  by  him.  We 
shall  enter  into  his  domain  in  the  spirit  of  sympa- 
thetic understanding,  and  it  will  be  to  us  not  a  valley 
of  shadows,  as  it  is  to  those  who  enter  with  closed 
eyes,  but  a  sea  of  splendour  and  sunlight,  where  the 
spirit  may 

"  Burst  all  links  of  habit — there  to  wander  far  away 
On  from  island  unto  island  at  the  gateways  of  the  day." 

«4 


PART  III 

THE  GREAT  MUSIC  DRAMAS 


INTRODUCTORY 

It  is  customary  to  divide  the  artistic  career  of  Wag- 
ner into  three  periods,  the  first  embracing  the  produc- 
tion of  the  early  works  and  "Rienzi,"  the  second  that 
of  "Der  Fliegende  Hollander,"  "  Tannhauser,"  and 
"Lohengrin,"  and  the  third  that  of  the  remaining 
works.  It  is  the  opinion  of  the  present  writer  that 
the  recognition  of  four  periods  would  make  the  mat- 
ter clearer  to  the  lover  of  this  master's  creations.  The 
early  works,  which  are  not  heard  except  in  one  or 
two  places,  may  be  left  out  of  consideration.  We 
may  then  classify  "  Rienzi  "  as  the  production  of  the 
first  period.  "Der  Fliegende  Hollander"  should 
stand  in  a  period  by  itself,  as  representing  the  purely 
embryonic  epoch  of  the  true  Wagner,  while  "Tann- 
hiiuser"  and  "Lohengrin"  may  properly  be  allotted 
to  a  third  or  transition  period.  The  remaining  works 
may  be  regarded  as  belonging  to  the  period  of  the 
mature  Wagner,  though  there  would  be  no  serious 
difficulty  in  subdividing  this  part  of  his  artistic  career. 
It  seems  to  me,  however,  that  no  satisfactory  end 
would  be  gained  by  doing  so. 

The  reader  of  this  book  has  already  seen  that  in 
writing  "  Rienzi  "  Wagner  was  actuated  by  purposes 
entirely  different  from  those  which  moved  him  in  the 
creation  of  "Der  Fliegende  Hollander."  The  first  of 
the  lyric  dramas  presently  to  be  examined  was,  as  its 

213 


214  Richard  Wagner 

maker  said,  a  grand  opera  pure  and  simple.  Then 
came  the  days  of  despair  in  Paris,  when  Wagner, 
hoping  nothing  for  the  future,  gave  free  rein  to  his 
artistic  impulses  and  produced  the  dramatic  story  of 
the  unhappy  Vanderdecken.  In  the  creation  of  this 
drama  nothing  influenced  Wagner's  mind  but  the 
desire  to  write  according  to  the  dictates  of  his  own 
artistic  conscience.  But  he  had  not  yet  worked  out  a 
scheme  of  dramatic  composition.  He  had  only  just 
come  upon  the  fundamental  ideas  of  his  plan.  Its  de- 
tails were  still  far  away  from  his  conception.  "  Em- 
bryonic, then,  is  the  term  to  apply  to  this  period  of 
his  productivity. 

With  "Tannhiiuser"  there  entered  into  the  field  of 
his  artistic  vision  those  broader  musical  and  ethical 
conceptions  of  the  lyric  drama  which  afterward  de- 
veloped themselves  into  a  complex  and  influential 
system.  With  "  Lohengrin  "  we  see  these  ideas  tak- 
ing more  definite  shape.  The  literary  and  musical 
plan  of  the  drama  is  more  closely  organised,  and  the 
musical  style  is  more  clearly  defined.  The  diction 
becomes  more  akin  to  that  of  later  works,  and  the 
methods  show  more  certainty  and  more  mastery. 
"Lohengrin"  is  a  long  advance  beyond  "  Der  Flie- 
gende  Hollander."  It  prepares  us  for  such  a  work  as 
"  Die  Meistersinger,"  though  hardly  in  full  for  "  Parsi- 
fal." It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  original  con- 
ception of  "Die  Meistersinger"  belongs  to  the  same 
period  as  "  Lohengrin,"  and  that  although  the  music 
was  not  written  till  long  afterward,  the  score  must 
naturally  have  been  coloured  by  the  first  thoughts  of 
the  work  and  so  have  come  somewhat  under  the 
influence  of  the  "  Lohengrin  "  style. 


Introductory  215 

In  the  early  dramas  we  meet  with  Wagner's  inclu- 
sion of  ethical  ideas  in  his  designs.  One  seeks  in  vain 
among  the  old  popular  operas  of  the  Rossini  or  Meyer- 
beer schools  for  a  drama  with  a  moral.  But  owing  to 
Wagner's  adoption  of  the  myth  as  the  material  from 
which  to  erect  his  dramatic  structures,  the  inclusion  of 
an  ethical  lesson  in  each  of  his  schemes  followed  al- 
most inevitably.  For  mythology  is  essentially  ethical. 
Wagner,  however,  humanised  the  teachings  of  the 
mythologies  into  which  he  delved  by  emphasising  the 
beautiful  idea  of  the  saving  grace  of  woman.  He  did 
not,  perhaps,  deliberately  adopt  as  the  motto  of  his 
works  the  line  of  Goethe,  "The  woman-soul  leadeth 
us  ever  upward  and  on,"  but  it  may  be  inscribed  upon 
them  without  violence  to  their  intent.  We  may  see 
by  an  examination  of  the  original  sources  of  the  dramas 
how  the  importance  of  this  thought  in  the  works  is 
due  to  the  deliberate  purpose  of  Wagner  himself  to 
bring  it  to  the  front.  In  some  of  the  original  stories 
it  plays  little  or  no  part,  but  in  the  Wagner  music 
drama  the  "  Ewig-Weibliche  "  is  always  impressed 
upon  the  imagination  of  the  auditor  with  all  the  skill 
of  the  dramatist  and  all  the  eloquence  of  the  musician. 

In  "  Lohengrin,"  as  the  reader  can  see  for  himself, 
the  master  made  a  special  point  of  excluding  the  oper- 
ation of  this  principle,  because  he  desired  to  bring  for- 
ward a  study  of  a  woman  who  had  no  love  in  her 
nature.  -  With  Wagner  the  woman-soul  could  be  in- 
fluential for  good  only  when  acting  under  the  guidance 
of  love.  Ortrud  acted  under  the  dictates  of  hate,  and 
her  influence  was  therefore  destructive,  but  ultimately 
futile.  The  reader  will  readily  perceive  the  dramatic, 
poetic,  and  musical  value  of  this  thought.     In  all  the 


2i6  Richard  Wagner 

Wagnerian  dramas  we  are  confronted  with  studies  of 
the  warring  of  good  and  evil  principles.  When  the 
good  principle  is  identified  or  associated  with  the  love 
of  woman,  and  that  love  is  made  the  saving  grace  of 
its  object,  the  dramatic  force  of  the  story  is  splendidly 
intensified,  the  scope  of  the  poetry  and  the  music  im- 
measurably widened.  Especially  is  the  music  bene- 
fited by  the  possibility  of  identifying  the  highest 
ethical  idea  of  the  poem  with  the  most  beautiful  and 
potent  of  its  emotions  ;  for  it  is  the  peculiar  privilege 
of  the  music  to  voice  the  emotional  content  of  the 
drama,  and  when  this  becomes  one  with  the  ethical 
idea,  the  auditor  is  led  by  the  music  into  the  very 
shrine  of  the  poet's  imagination.  The  reader  will 
note,  too,  that  in  those  dramas  in  which  the  love  of 
a  woman  does  not  figure  as  a  saving  influence,  the 
tragic  fate  of  the  hero  is  accentuated,  and  the  woman 
herself  is  made  a  more  conspicuous  embodiment  of 
grief. 

In  most  of  the  works  of  Wagner  there  is  to  be  found 
a  philosophical  or  metaphysical  basis,  and  this  is  most 
easily  discovered  in  the  later  dramas.  The  poet-com- 
poser was  at  different  times  deeply  influenced  by  the 
writings  of  Feuerbach  and  Schopenhauer.  From  the 
former  he  obtained  some  of  the  vaguer  conceptions 
of  his  philosophy,  but  the  latter  supplied  him  with 
definite  ideas.  It  was  in  the  early  fifties  that  Wagner 
was  a  student  of  Feuerbach,  and  his  mind  eagerly 
caught  at  the  thoughts  contained  indefinitely  in  such 
phrases  as  "highest  being  —  the  community  of 
being,"  "death,  the  fulfilment  of  love,"  and  such 
declarations  as  "only  in  love  does  the  finite  become 
the  infinite."     These  ideas  later  took  clearer  shape  in 


Introductory  217 

his  mind  when  he  gathered  from  Schopenhauer  the 
sharply  cut  description  of  the  negation  of  the  will 
to  live  as  the  highest  abstraction  and  elevation  of 
thought. 

With  love  figuring  as  a  community  of  being,  with 
death  as  its  highest  fulfilment,  and  with  the  absolute 
effacement  of  the  desire  of  life  as  the  loftiest  aspira- 
tion of  human  passion,  Wagner  was  equipped  with  a 
philosophical  background  for  several  of  his  most  dra- 
matic conceptions,  notably  for  "  Tristan  und  Isolde." 
Yet  one  has  no  difficulty  in  understanding  his  own 
assertion  that  the  negation  of  the  will  to  live  and  the 
community  of  being  had  entered  his  mind  in  an  in- 
definite shape  long  before  he  read  the  works  of  the 
two  philosophers,  for  they  may  be  traced  in  the  story 
of  "Der  Fliegende  Hollander." 

Some  of  Wagner's  biographers,  notably  Houston 
Stewart  Chamberlain,  to  whom  this  master  was  little 
short  of  a  divinity,  have  devoted  much  space  to  the 
consideration  of  Wagner  as  a  philosopher.  The  truth 
is  that  he  was  never  a  philosopher  at  all  in  the  strict 
sense  of  that  term.  He  was  a  groper  after  philoso- 
phies. He  sought  for  a  rational  foundation  for  his 
artistic  theories  and  endeavoured  to  found  them  upon 
metaphysical  tenets  borrowed  from  works  which 
seemed  to  meet  his  needs.  But  there  is  no  difficulty 
in  perceiving  that  what  always  appealed  to  him  in  a 
philosophy  was  its  poetic  or  dramatic  material.  That 
he  was  sometimes  mistaken  as  to  the  real  value  of 
that  material  is  not  astonishing.  The  best  text-books 
of  Wagner's  philosophy  are  his  dramas.  Therein  one 
finds  that  the  ethical  side  of  a  philosophy  was  what 
touched  him  most  directly,  and  that  it  did  so  because 


2i8  Richard  Wagner 

of  its  close  relation  to  the  principles  underlying  the 
tragic  in  human  experience.  This  is  paying  a  higher 
compliment  to  Wagner  than  to  call  him  a  philosopher, 
for  it  is  practically  asserting  that  his  dramatic  nature 
was  his  guiding  star. 

It  is  easy  to  note  that  in  "  Der  Fliegende  Hollander  " 
Wagner  more  nearly  rid  himself  of  those  hampering 
historical  details  to  which  he  objected  than  he  did  in 
"  Tannhauser,"  and  more  especially  than  in  "  Lohen- 
grin." The  legend  of  the  "Flying  Dutchman"  was 
not  one  of  the  great  world-thoughts,  but  it  had  the 
advantages  of  being  founded  on  an  incident  which 
might  be  repeated  at  any  time  and  in  any  place  — 
namely,  the  periodical  landing  of  the  wanderer.  In 
"  Tannhauser  "  and  "  Lohengrin,"  and  in  "  Parsifal," 
Wagner  used  material  found  in  the  great  cycle  of  tales 
belonging  to  the  Christian  mythology  of  Germany, 
England,  and  France.  He  found  himself  unable  to 
avoid  introducing  some  of  the  historical  details  con- 
tained in  the  original  stories.  Because  of  their  sources 
and  nature  these  three  dramas  have  been  classed  as 
the  Christian  trilogy  of  Wagner  in  contradistinction  to 
the  Nibelung  works,  which  are  called  the  pagan  trilogy. 
While  this  classification  is  justified  by  the  nature  of 
the  works,  it  should  be  remembered  that  Wagner 
himself  repudiated  any  intention  to  produce  works 
charged  with  a  religious  purpose.  Ethical  ideas,  in- 
deed, he  always  cherished,  but  he  denied  that  he 
taught  Christianity.  He  recognised  the  assistance 
which  art  had  given  to  religion,  and  he  saw  that  in 
Greece  the  dramatisation  of  national  religious  beliefs 
had  given  to  the  stage  a  power  unknown  in  modern 
times.     But   he  himself  was  too  wise  to  dream    of 


Introductory  219 

making  the  lyric  drama  a  mere  corollary  or  illustration 
to  the  pulpit  text.  A  passage  in  "  A  Communication 
to  My  Friends,"  quoted  in  the  account  of  his  resump- 
tion of  work  on  "  Tannhiiuser,"  explains  the  mood 
which  governed  him  in  the  composition  of  the  score. 
He  says  that  at  the  time  he  was  yearning  for  a  pure 
and  unapproachable  ideal  of  love.  "What,  in  fine," 
he  continues,  "could  this  love-yearning,  the  noblest 
thing  my  heart  could  feel,  what  other  could  it  be  than 
a  longing  for  release  from  the  present,  for  absorp- 
tion into  an  element  of  endless  love,  a  love  denied 
to  earth  and  reachable  through  the  gates  of  death 
alone  ?  .  .  .  How  absurd,  then,  must  those 
critics  seem  to  me,  who,  drawing  all  their  wit  from 
modern  wantonness,  insist  on  reading  into  my  '  Tann-  ■ — ' 
hauser '  a  specifically  Christian  and  impotently  pietistic 
drift  !  " 

We  may  now  proceed  to  the  study  of  the  great 
dramas  which  have  for  so  many  years  been  the  joy  of 
the  artistic  mind  and  the  torture  of  the  indolent.  The 
last  word  of  this  author  on  the  subject  of  studying 
these  dramas  is  this:  Learn  the  text.  By  the  text  the 
music  must  be  measured.  By  the  text  the  music 
must  be  understood.  By  the  music  the  text  is  illum- 
inated and  made  vital.  But  every  measure  of  Wag- 
ner's music  is  explained  by  the  poetry.  It  is  useless 
to  go  to  the  performance  of  a  Wagner  drama  with 
your  mind  charged  with  thoughts  of  the  music. 
Think  of  the  play  and  let  the  music  do  its  own  work. 
That  is  what  Wagner  himself  asks  you  to  do,  and  it  is 
the  only  fair  test  to  which  to  put  him.  If  his  music 
vitalises  the  drama  for  you,  it  matters  not  whether 
you    know   the    leading    motives    or  the   harmonic 


2  20  Richard  Wagner 

scheme  or  the  orchestration.  The  work  of  the  music 
is  accomplished.  But  that  work  cannot  be  accom- 
plished if  you  are  in  the  dark  as  to  its  purpose.  And 
in  the  dark  you  must  always  be  unless  you  have  a  full 
knowledge  of  "  what  is  going  forward  on  the  stage." 
To  gain  that  you  must  know  the  entire  text.  There- 
fore the  written  word  of  the  drama  is  your  guide  to 
its  comprehension. 


RIENZI 

THE    LAST   OF   THE  TRIBUNES. 

Grand  Tragic  Opera  in  Five  Acts; 

First  performed  at  the  Royal  Saxon  Court  Theatre, 
Dresden,  October  20,  1842. 


Original  Cast. 


Cola  Rienzi 

Irene 

StefFano  Colonna 

Adriano 

Paolo  Orsini 

Raimondo 

Baroncelli 

Cecco  del  Vecchio 

A  Messenger  of  Peace 


Mm 


Tichatschek. 

Fraulein  Wust. 

Dettmer 

Schroeder-Devrient. 

Wiichter. 

Vestri. 

Reinhold. 

Risse. 

Thiele. 


Hamburg,    1844;    Konigsberg,    1845;    Berlin,    Oct 
26,    1847;    Prague,    1859;    Hanover,    1859;    Weimar 
Wiesbaden,   and   Darmstadt,    i860;    Mayence,    1863 
Stockholm,    1864;  Bremen,  Gratz,  and  Stettin,   1865 
Wurzburg,    1866;  Schwerin,  1867;  Rotterdam,    1868 
Leipsic,  1869;  Paris  (in  French  translation  by  Charles 
NuitterandJ.  Guillaume),  April 6,  1869;  Cassel,  1870; 
Augsburg,    Carlsruhe,    Vienna,    and    Munich,    187 1; 
Mannheim  and  Magdeburg,   1872;  Brunswick,   1873; 


222 


Richard  Wagner 


Venice,  1874;  Strassburg  and  Breslau,  1875;  Bologna 
and  Madrid,  1876;  Cologne  and  Florence,  1877;  Riga, 
1878;  New  York,  in  German  by  the  Pappenheim- 
Adams  Co.,  Mar.  4,  1878,  and  in  English,  Jan.  27, 
1879;  London,  Italian  and  English,  1879;  St.  Peters- 
burg, 1879;  Rome,  Innspruck,  Freiburg,  and  Ghent, 
1880;  Frankfort-on-the-Main,  1881,  and  Basle,  1882. 

First  performance  in  New  York,  Academy  of  Music, 

March  4,  1878, 

by  the  Pappenheim-Adams  Company. 


Adriano 

Irene 

Cola  Rienzi 

Paolo  Orsini 

Steffano  Colonna 

Raimondo 

A  Messenger  of  Peace 


Cast. 

Mme.  Eugenia  Pappenheim. 
Miss  Alexandre   Human. 
Charles  Adams. 
.    A.  Blum. 
H.  Wiegand. 
F.  Adolphe. 
Miss  Cooney. 


Conductor,  Max  Maretzek. 

The  names  of  the  singers  of  Baroncelli  and  Cecco 
del  Vecchio  were  not  advertised  nor  mentioned  in  the 
newspapers. 


RIENZI 

The  first  of  the  series  of  great  musical  works  by 
which  the  fame  of  Wagner  was  made  does  not  call 
for  extended  discussion.  Its  source  is  familiar  to 
every  reader  of  English  literature,  and  its  method  of 
construction  and  style  of  composition  are  those  em- 
ployed in  the  operas  of  the  Meyerbeerian  school.  In 
the  fact  that  Wagner  wrote  his  own  libretto,  which 
awakened  the  interest  even  of  Hector  Berlioz,  and  in 
the  immense  vigour  and  wonderful  colour  of  the  score, 
lie  the  chief  indications  of  the  Wagner  of  the  future. 
The  reader  has  already  learned  how  Wagner  under- 
took this  work  with  the  deliberate  purpose  of  making 
it  a  lever  to  pry  open  the  doors  of  the  Paris  Grand 
Opera.  With  that  idea  in  mind  it  is  not  at  all  astonish- 
ing that  he  should  have  followed  the  model  of  Meyer- 
beer, who  was  in  Wagner's  early  days  the  master 
spirit  of  the  world  of  French  music. 

Wagner  in  subsequent  years  was  extremely  particu- 
lar to  keep  before  the  minds  of  his  friends  the  fact  that 
it  was  not  simply  pecuniary  success  that  he  sought. 
He  was  eager  to  shine  as  an  artist.  That  we  must 
concede.  He  was,  indeed,  ambitious,  and  had  a  pro- 
found conviction  of  his  own  genius.  But  in  these 
early  days,  when  the  inner  artistic  struggle  found  its 
companion  piece  in  the  outward  fight  for  existence, 
Wagner   had    not   reached   the    aesthetic   convictions 

223 


2  24  Richard  Wagner 

which  afterward  came  to  him.  Therefore  his  concep- 
tion of  Bulwer's  "Rienzi  "  was  wholly  as  material  for 
the  libretto  of  a  grand  opera  of  the  Meyerbeerian 
school.  We  have  seen  how  his  first  attempt  to  enter 
Paris  was  with  the  scenario  of  "  Die  Hohe  Braut," 
which  was  sent  to  Scribe,  but  lost  in  the  mail  for 
want  of  proper  prepayment  of  the  postal  charges. 
We  then  find  that  Wagner  wrote  in  1837  to  his  Leip- 
sic  friend  Lewald,  who  had  some  acquaintance  in 
Paris,  telling  him  that  he  had  in  his  mind  the  book 
of  "  Rienzi." 

"  I  intend,"  he  said,  "to  compose  it  in  the  German  language,  to 
make  an  attempt  whether  there  is  a  possibility  of  getting  it  performed 
in  Berlin  in  the  course  of  fifty  years,  if  God  grant  me  so  long  a  life. 
Perhaps  Scribe  will  like  it,  in  which  case  Rienzi  will  learn  to  sing 
French  in  a  moment  ;  or  else  this  might  be  a  way  to  goad  Berliners 
into  accepting  the  opera  if  they  were  told  that  Paris  was  ready  to  bring 
it  out,  but  that  preference  was  for  once  to  be  given  to  Berlin  ;  for  a 
stage  like  that  of  Berlin  or  Paris  is  absolutely  necessary  to  bring  out 
such  a  work  properly." 

Nothing  came  of  this  correspondence,  and  Wag- 
ner's "  Rienzi  "  was  not  permitted  to  astonish  the 
Parisians.  Nevertheless  he  began  himself  to  write 
the  libretto  at  Riga  in  the  summer  of  1838.  In  the 
spring  of  1839  he  had  composed  the  music  of  the  first 
two  acts,  and  with  this  uncompleted  score  he  set  out 
from  Riga  on  the  voyage  which  ultimately  landed 
him  in  Paris.  Of  his  meeting  with  Meyerbeer  at 
Boulogne,  his  exhibition  of  his  manuscript  to  the  great 
dictator,  his  completion  of  the  work  in  the  days  of 
his  hardship  in  Paris  (in  1841),  and  the  sending  of  the 
bulky  score  to  Dresden  the  story  has  been  told  in  the 
biographical  part  of  this  book.     It  need  not  now  be 


Rienzi  225 

repeated.  Of  the  instantaneous  success  of  the  opera  at 
Dresden  there  is  plentiful  evidence.  It  was  in  the 
style  which  the  public  of  the  time  admired  and  it 
heaped  up  effects  enough  to  dazzle  the  crowd.  But 
it  must  be  said  for  Wagner  that  he  had  some  dim 
thought  when  he  began  this  work  of  producing  some- 
thing really  artistic  He  was  simply  mistaken  as  to 
the  method.  At  this  point  I  must  ask  the  reader  to 
accept  Wagner's  own  words  as  a  better  exposition  of 
himself  and  his  purposes  than  anything  which  I  can 
invent.     In  the  "Autobiographic  Sketch  "  he  says  : 

"  Since  1  was  so  completely  bare  of  Paris  prospects,  I  took  up  once 
more  the  composition  of  my  '  Rienzi.'  I  now  destined  it  for  Dresden: 
in  the  first  place,  because  1  knew  that  this  theatre  possessed  the  very 
best  material — Devrient,  Tichatschek,  etc.;  secondly,  because  1  could 
more  reasonably  hope  for  an  entree  there,  relying  upon  the  support  of 
my  earliest  acquaintances.  My  '  Liebesverbot '  I  now  gave  up  almost 
completely;  I  feit  that  I  could  no  longer  regard  myself  as  its  composer. 
With  all  the  greater  freedom  1  followed  now  my  true  artistic  creed  in 
the  prosecution  of  the  music  to  my  '  Rienzi.'  " 

Further,  let  the  reader  note  well  these  passages 
from  "  A  Communication  to  My  Friends  ": 

"My  home  troubles  increased  ;  the  desire  to  wrest  myself  from  a 
humiliating  plight  now  grew  into  an  eager  longing  to  begin  something 
on  a  grand  and  inspiring  scale,  even  though  it  should  involve  the 
temporary  abandonment  of  any  practical  aim.  This  mood  was  fed 
and  fostered  by  my  reading  Bulwer's  '  Rienzi.'  From  the  misery  of 
modern  private  life,  whence  1  could  nowhere  glean  the  scantiest  stuff 
for  artistic  treatment,  I  was  borne  away  by  the  picture  of  a  great  his- 
lorico-political  event,  in  lingering  on  which  1  needs  must  find  a 
salutary  distraction  from  the  cares  and  conditions  that  appeared  to  me 
as  nothing  else  than  absolutely  fatal  to  art.  In  accordance  with  my 
particular  artistic  bent,  however,  1  still  kept  more  or  less  to  the  purely 


226  Richard  Wagner 


musical,  or  rather,  operatic  standpoint.  This  Rienzi  with  great 
thoughts  in  his  head,  great  feelings  in  his  heart,  amid  an  entourage  of 
coarseness  and  vulgarity,  set  all  my  nerves  a-quivering  with  sympathy 
and  love  ;  yet  my  plan  for  an  art-work  based  thereon  sprang  first 
from  the  perception  of  a  purely  lyric  element  in  the  hero's  atmos- 
phere. The  '  Messengers  of  Peace,'  the  Church's  summons  to 
awake,  the  Battle  hymns — these  were  what  impelled  me  to  an  opera  : 
'Rienzi.'"     .     .     . 

"To  write  an  opera  for  whose  production  only  the  most  excep- 
tional means  should  suffice — a  work,  therefore,  which  1  should  never 
feel  tempted  to  bring  before  the  public  amid  such  cramping  relations 
as  those  which  then  oppressed  me,  and  the  hope  of  whose  eventual 
production  should  thus  incite  me  to  make  every  sacrifice  in  order  to 
extricate  myself  from  those  relations, — this  is  what  resolved  me  to  re- 
sume and  carry  out  with  all  my  might  my  former  plan  for  '  Rienzi.' 
in  the  preparation  of  this  text  also  1  took  no  thought  for  anything  but 
the  writing  of  an  effective  operatic  libretto.  The  '  Grand  Opera  '  with 
all  its  scenic  and  musical  display,  its  sensationalism  and  massive 
vehemence,  loomed  large  before  me  ;  and  not  merely  to  copy  it,  but 
with  reckless  extravagance  to  outbid  it  in  its  every  detail  became  the 
object  of  my  artistic  ambition.  However,  1  should  be  unjust  to  my- 
self did  I  represent  this  ambition  as  my  only  motive  for  the  conception 
and  execution  of  my  '  Rienzi.'  The  stuff  really  aroused  my  enthusiasm, 
and  I  put  nothing  into  my  sketch  which  had  not  a  direct  bearing  on 
the  grounds  of  this  enthusiasm.  My  chief  concern  was  my  Rienzi 
himself;  and  only  when  I  felt  quite  contented  with  him  did  1  give 
rein  to  the  notion  of  a  'grand  opera.'  Nevertheless  from  a  purely 
artistic  point  of  view  this  'grand  opera'  was  the  pair  of  spectacles 
through  which  I  unconsciously  regarded  my  Rienzi-stuff ;  nothing  in 
that  stuff  did  1  find  enthrall  me  but  what  could  be  looked  at  through 
these  spectacles.  True,  that  I  always  fixed  my  gaze  upon  the  stuff 
itself,  and  did  not  keep  one  eye  open  for  certain  ready-made  musical 
effects  which  1  might  wish  to  father  on  it  by  hook  or  crook  ;  only,  1 
saw  it  in  no  other  light  than  that  of  a  '  five-act-opera,'  with  five  bril- 
liant 'finales,'  and  filled  with  hymns,  processions,  and  the  musical 
clash  of  arms.  Thus  1  bestowed  no  greater  care  upon  the  verse  and 
diction  than  seemed  needful  for  turning  out  a  good  and  not  trivial 
opera-text.  I  did  not  set  out  with  the  object  of  writing  duets,  trios, 
&c.,  but  they  found  their  own  way  in  here  and  there  because  I  looked 


Rienzi  227 

upon  my  subject  exclusively  through  the  medium  of  'Opera.'  For 
instance,  I  by  no  means  hunted  about  in  my  stuff  for  a  pretext  for  a  bal- 
let ;  but  with  the  eyes  of  the  opera-composer  I  perceived  in  it  a  self- 
evident  festival  that  Rienzi  must  give  to  the  People,  and  at  which  he 
would  have  to  exhibit  to  them  in  dumb  show  a  drastic  scene  from  their 
ancient  history  :  this  scene  being  the  story  of  Lucretia  and  the  conse- 
quent expulsion  of  the  Tarquins  from  Rome.  Thus  in  every  depart- 
ment of  my  plan  1  was  certainly  ruled  by  the  stuff  alone  ;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  i  ruled  this  stuff  according  to  my  only  chosen  pattern, 
the  form  of  the  Grand  Opera.  My  artistic  individuality,  in  its  dealings 
with  the  impressions  of  life,  was  still  entirely  under  the  influence  of 
purely  artistic,  or  rather  art-formalistic,  mechanically  operating  im- 
pressions." * 

The  reader  will  now  understand  the  artistic  ideas 
which  governed  Wagner  in  the  production  of  his  only 
"grand  opera."  He  was,  as  he  himself  declares,  true 
to  the  artistic  creed  which  he  cherished  at  that  time, 
but  that  creed  was  opposed  to  the  one  afterward  form- 
ulated in  his  mind.  His  first  artistic  beliefs  were 
founded  on  the  theory  that  not  the  ground-plan,  but 
the  external  treatment,  of  the  grand  opera  was  at 
fault.  He  fancied  that  he  could  preserve  the  element 
which  he  has  called  "art-formalistic"  and  yet  reach 
dramatic  verity.  He  aimed  at  a  consistent  embodi- 
ment of  character  in  his  hero  ;  he  sought  to  give  to 
all  the  factors  of  the  opera,  even  such  accessories  as  the 
ballet,  a  direct  and  powerful  dramatic  significance  ; 
but  it  had  not  yet  come  to  him  that  he  must,  in  order 
to  make  a  consistent  drama  in  music,  sacrifice  form  to 
content,  and  get  rid  of  the  whole  mechanical  apparatus 
of  the  spectacular  opera.  Here,  then,  let  me  quote 
the  most  significant  passage  of  all,  one  from  the 
"Autobiographic  Sketch": 

*  Prose  Works,  Vol.  I.,  W.  A.  Ellis's  translation. 


2  28  Richard  Wagner 

"When  in  the  autumn  [or  1838]  I  began  the  composition  of  my 
'  Rienzi,'  I  allowed  naught  to  influence  me  except  the  single  purpose 
to  answer  to  my  subject.  I  set  myself  no  model,  but  gave  myself 
entirely  to  the  feeling  which  now  consumed  me,  the  feeling  that  I  had 
already  so  far  progressed  that  I  might  claim  something  significant 
from  the  development  of  my  artistic  powers,  and  expect  some  not  in- 
significant result.  The  very  notion  of  being  consciously  weak  or 
trivial — even  in  a  single  bar — was  appalling  to  me." 

The  frequent  iteration  of  sucii  statements  shows  how 
anxious  Wagner  was  in  subsequent  years  lest  he  should 
be  accused  of  deliberately  pandering  to  that  depraved 
public  taste  which  he  decried.  In  his  endeavour  to 
treat  the  grand-opera  form  honestly  he  accepted  as  his 
musical  models  several  of  his  predecessors.  In  "  Die 
Feen  "  he  believed  that  he  was  following  the  lead  of 
Beethoven,  Weber,  and  Marschner,  and  in  "Das 
Liebesverbot "  he  turned  for  help  to  Auber  and 
Bellini.  In  "Rienzi"  he  utilised  elements  from  all  of 
these,  and  added  to  them  the  pomp  of  Spontini  and 
the  external  glare  of  Meyerbeer.  The  libretto,  as  he 
says,  is  simply  a  good  opera  book.  One  looks  in 
vain  through  it  for  more  than  traces  of  the  dramatic 
power  and  real  poetry  to  be  found  in  the  later  works. 
Similarly  the  music  is  just  good  opera  music  of  the 
most  pretentious  kind.  It  glitters,  but  seldom  glows. 
It  astonishes,  but  seldom  moves.  The  instrumenta- 
tion shows  many  of  the  idiosyncrasies  of  the  later 
Wagner,  but  it  is  generally  without  inner  strength. 
The  whole  work  is  superficial,  and  calls  for  precisely 
the  same  sort  of  criticism  as  the  operas  of  Meyerbeer 
do.  And  this  result  came  in  spite  of  the  fact  that 
Wagner,  according  to  his  own  account,  was  appalled 
by  the  very  thought  of  being  consciously  weak  or 
trivial  for  a  moment.     That  he  was  weak  and  trivial 


Rienzi  229 

often  will  be  patent  to  any  hearer  of  the  opera.  In- 
deed, one  need  not  go  so  far  as  that.  The  overture  is 
played  often  in  concert  and  a  novice  can  easily  detect 
the  bombastic  emptiness  of  its  resounding  finale,  even 
at  the  same  time  as  he  notes  the  resemblance  of  the 
sequences  of  chords  in  the  brass  to  some  afterward 
heard  in  "Der  Fliegende  Hollander."  But  Wagner 
himself  tells  us  that  before  he  had  completed  "  Rienzi  " 
he  became  doubtful  as  to  the  possibility  of  bringing 
about  any  real  success  by  the  methods  which  he  was 
employing.  He  began  to  foresee  the  future  with  its 
wide  departure  for  him  from  the  traditions  of  opera. 
He  began  to  realise  that  he  could  not  cater  to  the  ex- 
tant public  taste,  but  must  create  for  himself  a  new 
one.  But  it  was  not  till  despair  made  him  withdraw 
himself  from  all  relations  to  the  outer  world  that  he 
entered  upon  the  development  of  the  true  Wagnerian 
music  drama. 

"  Rienzi,"  then,  must  be  viewed  simply  as  a  grand 
opera  of  the  old-fashioned  sort.  We  must  regard  its 
libretto  as  an  exemplification  of  the  clever  ground- 
plan  of  Meyerbeer,  its  music  as  the  artistic  offspring 
of  the  "Jewish  banker  to  whom  it  occurred  to  write 
music,"  of  Spontini,  Rossini,  and  other  composers  of 
the  pseudo-grand  style.  The  story  of  the  opera  is 
substantially  that  of  Bulwer's  novel,  and  needs  no  re- 
view here.  In  the  making  of  this  book  Wagner  was 
simply  an  adapter.  He  re-created  nothing.  In  his 
other  works  we  shall  find  that  he  added  to  the  literary 
substance  of  every  subject  which  he  treated.  But  such 
was  not  the  case  with  "Rienzi."  The  joints  are 
plainly  visible.  The  carpenter  work  is  creditable,  but 
it  is  not  architecture.     One  might  almost  say  the  same 


230  Richard  Wagner 

thing  about  the  music.  It  is  in  the  main  good,  work- 
manlike music,  with  inspiration  carefully  fanned  by 
the  breaths  of  older  composers.  Occasionally  the  real 
Wagner  peeps  out  and  there  are  some  passages  of 
fine  vigour  and  even  expressiveness.  But  this  is  an 
opera  in  which  one  can  go  through  the  score  and  pick 
out  the  "good  things,"  just  as  one  could  from  the  old 
scores  of  Donizetti  and  Bellini. 

The  reader  of  Bulwer,  for  instance,  will  miss  from 
the  opera  the  figure  of  Nina,  the  wife  of  Rienzi,  but 
he  will  find  that  her  place  is  well  filled  by  the  sister, 
Irene,  of  whom  Wagner  makes  a  conspicuously  noble 
character.  Furthermore  Wagner  in  drawing  the  char- 
acter of  his  hero  went  to  the  original  historical  sources 
and  so  made  him  a  stronger  personage  than  Bulwer 
did.  "  Un  signor  valoroso,  accorto,  e  saggio  "  is  this 
Rienzi,  as  Petrarch  called  him.  He  speaks  in  broad 
and  commanding  accents,  as  in  his  address  to  the 
nobles  and  in  the  prayer.  And  it  is  at  such  points 
that  we  find  the  best  music.  The  prayer  is  set  to  one 
of  the  finest  melodies  in  all  opera.  Again  we  see 
that  in  the  chorus  and  solo  of  the  messengers  of  peace 
Wagner  found  material  for  good  writing  of  both  verse 
and  music.  The  prayer  opens  the  fifth  act,  when 
Rienzi,  feeling  that  the  end  is  near,  calls  on  the  Lord  to 
preserve  the  work  which  he  has  achieved. 

"  Allniacht'ger  Vater,  blick  '  herab, 

Hor'  mich  im  Staube  zu  dir  fleh'n  ! 
Die  Macht,  die  mir  dein  Wunder  gab, 

Lass  jetzt  noch  nicht  zu  Grunde  geh'n  !  " 

Almighty  Fatiier,  look  on  me  ! 

Hear  thou  my  humble  fervent  prayer  ! 


Rienzi 


231 


Let  not  the  power  I  had  from  Thee 
Pass  from  me  in  this  dark  despair. 

With   the   second  stanza  comes  the  fine   melody 
heard  in  the  overture : 


§ 


^ 


i 


Du      stark-test  mich.du  gabst  mir  ho    -      -he  kraft, 


=g— > U 


-si *L. 


du       lie  -  best  mir  er-hab'-ne    Ei    -     -     gen-schaft,  za 


xj;  r'^i' 


^f^■:?I?:^t  !ii^"l 


232 


Richard  Wagner 


Thou  gavest  me  of  Thy  all-wondrous  might, 
High  gifts,  O  Lord,  didst  Thou  on  me  bestow, 

To  light  up  those  who  live  in  night, 
To  raise  up  those  who  bend  so  low. 

M.  Schure  has  said  : 

"  '  Rienzi '  is  a  work  of  the  composer's  youth,  unequal,  but  already 
full  of  force  and  strength,  brilliant  and  full  of  fire.  The  reformatory 
ideas  of  the  author  are  not  yet  apparent.  The  libretto  is  cut  accord- 
ing to  the  rules  of  tradition— choruses,  ensembles,  resounding  marches, 
grand  airs,  trios,  septets,  ballet— nothing  is  wanting.  The  music, 
without  betraying  any  imitation  in  particular,  has  a  strong  Italian 
colouring,  but  the  individuality  of  the  composer  is  shown  as  well  in 
the  heroic  grandeur  of  his  broad  melodies  as  in  the  warmth  and  riches 
of  his  instrumentation.  In  short,  '  Rienzi '  is  already  the  work  of  an 
independent  master  without  being  that  of  an  innovator." 

In  the  last  sentence  M.  Schure  has  nearly  touched 
the  truth,  but  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  he  and  Mr. 
Hueffer  somewhat  overrate  the  importance  of  this 
work.  It  is  most  probable  that  the  melody  of  the 
prayer  will  come  to  be  accepted  as  the  one  inspired 
thing  in  the  whole  score.  Certainly  the  air  of  Adriano, 
so  often  sung  on  the  concert  stage,  is  but  a  weak  and 
bombastic  imitation  of  a  Weber  grand  aria  of  the  style 
of    "Ocean,   thou   mighty  monster,"    with   leanings 


Rienzi  233 

toward  the  manner  employed  in  the  monologue  of 
Ortrud  in  Act  II.  of  "  Lohengrin." 

We  may  therefore  dismiss  "Rienzi"  as  a  mistake 
of  Wagner's  youth.  He  had  not  yet  found  himself. 
He  might  have  achieved  popularity  and  made  money 
with  this  sort  of  writing,  and  knowing  his  great  vanity 
and  love  of  luxury  we  should  not  have  been  surprised 
if  he  had  continued  to  produce  works  of  this  pattern 
if  the  first  one  had  brought  him  immediate  success. 
We  ought,  perhaps,  to  be  very  grateful  to  the  years 
of  privation  in  Paris  which  developed  the  real  Wagner, 
though  it  is  possible  that  his  own  ambition  to  stand 
alone  would  have  had  the  desired  result  in  the  course 
of  time,  even  had  the  years  1840  and  1841  been  easier 
for  him. 


DER  FLIEGENDE  HOLLANDER 

Romantic  Opera  in  Tliree  Acts 

First  performed  at  the  Royal  Saxon  Court  Theatre, 
Dresden,  Jan.  2,  1843. 


Original  Cast 

Senta  . 

Mme.  Schroeder-Devrient. 

The  Dutchman 

Wachter. 

Daland 

Risse. 

Erik     . 

Reinhold. 

Mary 

Mme.  Wachter. 

Helmsman  . 

Bielezizky. 

Conductor,  Richard  Wagner. 

Riga  and  Cassel,  1843  ;  Berlin,  1844  ;  Zurich,  1852  ; 
Schwerin,  Weimar,  and  Breslau,  1833  ;  Frankfort  and 
Wiesbaden,  1854;  Hanover, Carlsruhe, and  Prague,  1857; 
Mayence  and  Vienna,  i860;  Konigsberg,  1861  ;  Lu- 
cerne, 1862  ;  Munich,  1864;  Stuttgart,  i86s  ;  Olmutz, 
1866  ;  Rotterdam  and  Dessau,  1869  ;  Hamburg,  Darm- 
stadt, Mannheim,  Gratz,  1870  ;  London  (Italian), 
July  2},  1870  ;  Vienna,  Brunswick,  and  Briinn,  187 1  ; 
Brussels  and  Stockholm,  1872  ;  Budapesth,  Stettin, 
Augsburg,  Magdeburg,  Sondershausen,  and  Baden, 
1874  ;  Strassburg,  1875  ;  Lubeck,  Freiburg,  and  Salz- 
burg, 1876  ;  Philadelphia,  1876  ;  Dublin  and  Bologna, 

234 


The  Flying  Dutchman  235 

1877  ;  Wurzburg,  1877  ;  New  York,  Jan.  26,  1877  ; 
Innspruck,  1880. 

First  performed  in  America  as  "II  Vasceilo  Fan- 
tasma,"  in  Philadelpliia,  Nov.  8,  1876,  by  the  Pappen- 
heim  Company. 

First  performed  in  New  York  at  the  Academy  of 
Music,  Jan.  26,  1877,  by  the  Kellogg  English  Opera 
Company. 

Cast. 

Senta  ....        Clara  Louise  Kellogg. 

The  Dutchman    .        .        .        .        W.  T.  Carleton. 

Daland Mr.  Conly. 

Erik Mr,  Turner. 

Conductor,  S.  Behrens. 

First  performed  in  New  York  in  German  at  the 
Academy  of  Music,  Mar.  12,  1877. 

Cast. 


Senta 

Mme. 

Eugenia  Pappenheim. 

The  Dutchman     . 

A.  Blum. 

Daland 

.    Mr.  Preusser. 

Erik     . 

Christian  Fritsch. 

Mary 

.    Miss  Cooney. 

Steersman    . 

Mr.  Lenoir. 

Conductor,  A.  Neuendorff. 


THE  FLYING  DUTCHMAN 

"  Der  Fliegende  Hollander  "  is  the  first  of  the  works 
of  Wagner  which  shadow  forth  the  style,  the  system, 
and  the  mastery  of  lyrico-dramatic  art  found  in  his 
later  works.  All  these  elements  of  this  master's  art, 
however,  are  here  found  in  an  embryonic  and  experi- 
mental stage.  Nothing  is  developed,  and  nothing  is 
definite.  Wagner  himself  did  not  realise  the  signifi- 
cance or  possible  extent  of  his  movement.  He  was 
at  this  time  wholly  unconscious  of  the  fact  that  he 
was  laying  the  foundations  of  a  new  method  of  com- 
position in  musical  drama.  He  was  aiming  only  at 
writing  an  expressive  score,  in  which  the  characters 
of  his  play,  their  emotions  and  their  actions,  should 
be  drawn  with  all  the  powers  of  music. 

The  work  was  written  at  Meudon  in  the  spring  of 
1841.  All  except  the  overture  was  completed  in  seven 
weeks.  Of  the  fate  of  the  first  sketch  of  this  lyric 
drama,  of  the  hardships  of  the  composer's  life  at  the 
time  of  its  execution,  of  the  first  performances,  the 
reader  has  already  been  told.  He  has  seen  also  how 
the  stormy  voyage  to  London  impressed  upon  his 
mind  the  legend  of  the  "Flying  Dutchman"  with 
which  he  had  already  made  acquaintance.  It  now 
becomes  our  duty  to  examine  the  sources  from  which 
Wagner  derived  the  poetic  materials  of  this  play  and 
to  ascertain  how  he  treated  them.     In  the   "  Flying 

236 


The  Flying  Dutchman  237 

Dutchman  "  the  poetic  ability  of  the  master  was  first 
exhibited.  He  ceased  to  be  a  mere  libretto-writer 
and  became  a  dramatic  poet.  His  version  of  the 
famous  old  legend  is  a  lovely  one,  and  much  of  its 
increased  beauty  is  the  product  of  his  own  genius. 
It  was,  as  he  himself  said  in  the  oft-quoted  "Com- 
munication," the  "first  folk-poem  that  forced  its  way 
into  my  heart,  and  called  on  me  as  man  and  artist  to 
point  its  meaning,  and  mould  it  in  a  work  of  art." 

It  was  while  in  Riga  that  he  made  his  first  acquaint- 
ance with  the  story.  "  Heine  takes  occasion  to  relate 
it,"  he  says,  "in  speaking  of  the  representation  of  a 
play  founded  thereon,  which  he  had  witnessed  — as  I 
believe — at  Amsterdam.  This  subject  fascinated  me, 
and  made  an  indelible  impression  upon  my  fancy  ; 
still  it  did  not  as  yet  acquire  the  force  needful  for  its 
rebirth  within  me."  The  story  of  Heine  was  in  "The 
Memoirs  of  Herr  Schnabelewopski."  It  is  not  certain 
whose  play  it  was  that  Heine  meant.  Francis  Hueffer, 
in  his  "Richard  Wagner,"*  expresses  the  belief  that 
the  play  was  that  of  Fitzball,  which  was  running  at 
the  Adelphi  Theatre  in  1827,  when  Heine  visited  Lon- 
don. Mr.  Hueffer  bases  his  argument  largely  on  the 
fact  that  two  features  of  Fitzball's  play,  both  additions 
to  the  old  legend,  are  mentioned  by  Heine  as  appear- 
ing in  the  drama  which  he  saw.  These  are  the  pictures 
of  the  Dutchman  on  the  wall  of  Daland's  house,  and 
the  taking  of  a  wife  by  the  wandering  seaman. 

Mr.  Hueffer  adds  : 

"  Here,  however,  his  indebtedness  ends.  Fitzball  knows  nothing 
of  the  beautiful  idea  of  woman's  redeeming  love.  According  to  him 
the  Flying  Dutchman  is  the  ally  of  a  monster  of  the  deep,  seeking  for 

*  The  Great  Musicians  Series,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 


238  Richard  Wagner 

victims.  Wagner,  further  developing  Heine's  idea,  has  made  the  hero 
himself  to  symbolise  that  feeling  of  unrest  and  ceaseless  struggle  which 
finds  its  solution  in  death  and  forgetfulness  alone.  The  gap  in  Heine's 
story  he  has  filled  up  by  an  interview  of  Senta  with  Erik,  her  discarded 
lover,  which  the  Dutchman  mistakes  for  a  breach  of  faith  on  the  part 
of  his  wife,  till  Senta's  voluntary  death  dispels  his  suspicion." 

It  should  be  noted  that  Mr.  W.  Ashton  Ellis,  whose 
translation  of  Wagner's  prose  works  has  been  so  often 
quoted,  wrote  a  paper  to  disprove  the  theory  of  Mr. 
Hueffer  as  to  the  play  having  been  Fitzball's.  The 
matter,  after  all,  is  not  one  of  great  importance. 
Wagner  got  his  materials  from  Heine's  book,  which 
contained  a  version  of  a  very  old  legend,  and  in  mak- 
ing the  text  of  his  lyric  drama,  he  altered  and  im- 
proved that  material  as  Mr.  Hueffer  has  indicated. 

The  late  Mr.  John  P.  Jackson,  formerly  musical 
editor  of  The  New  York  World,  in  the  admirable  in- 
troduction to  his  translation  of  the  text  of  this  opera, 
at  one  time  used  at  the  Metropolitan  Opera  House, 
says  that  the  Fitzball  play  was  founded  on  a  version 
of  the  legend  printed  in  Black-wood' s  Magaiine  in 
May,  1 82 1.     That  version  runs  thus  : 

"She  was  an  Amsterdam  vessel  and  sailed  from  port  seventy  years 
ago.  Her  master's  name  was  Van  der  Decken.  He  was  a  staunch 
seaman,  and  would  have  his  own  way  in  spite  of  the  devil.  For  all 
that,  never  a  sailor  under  him  had  reason  to  complain  ;  though  how 
it  is  on  board  with  them  nobody  knows.  The  story  is  this  :  that  in 
doubling  the  Cape  they  were  a  long  day  trying  to  weather  the  Table 
Bay.  However,  the  wind  headed  them,  and  went  against  them  more 
and  more,  and  Van  der  Decken  walked  the  deck,  swearing  at  the 
wind.  Just  after  sunset  a  vessel  spoke  him,  asking  him  if  he  did  not 
mean  to  go  into  the  bay  that  night.  Van  der  Decken  replied,  '  May 
1  be  eternally  damned  if  I  do,  though  1  should  beat  about  here  till  the 
day  of  judgment.'     And  to  be  sure,  he  never  did  go  into  that  bay,  for 


The  Flying  Dutchman  239 

it  is  believed  that  he  continues  to  beat  about  in  these  seas  still,  and 
will  do  so  long  enough.  This  vessel  is  never  seen  but  with  foul 
weather  along  with  her. " 

This  is  practically  the  original  story  of  the  "Flying 
Dutchman."  It  is  no  new  tale,  but,  like  nearly  all 
myths,  a  development.  In  the  literature  of  Greece  we 
find  the  wanderer  in  the  person  of  Ulysses,  yearning 
for  hearth  and  home  and  the  joys  of  domestic  love. 
In  the  early  period  of  Christianity  the  myth  entered 
and  gave  us  the  gloomy  figure  of  the  Wandering  Jew, 
accursed  and  hopeless  of  all  save  the  end  in  oblivion. 
With  the  Dutch  the  legend  in  the  Middle  Ages  was 
easily  transferred  to  their  own  favourite  element,  the 
sea,  whereon  at  that  time  they  were  among  the  most 
daring  and  skilful.  The  struggle  of  the  Dutchman 
against  contending  winds  and  waves  typified  their 
own  battles  with  the  powers  of  Old  Ocean,  and  their 
determination  to  conquer  at  all  hazards. 

Later  writers  than  those  of  the  dark  ages  en- 
deavoured to  give  this  legend  an  end.  In  its  original 
form  it  stands  suspended  with  the  Dutchman  a  crea- 
ture without  hope.  Captain  Marryatt,  in  his  "Phan- 
tom Ship,"  releases  the  wanderer  from  his  ceaseless 
journeyings  by  means  of  an  amulet,  or  religious  charm- 
Sir  Walter  Scott's  version  of  the  tale — wherever  he 
found  it — is  a  curiously  poor  one.  According  to  him, 
the  vessel  was  laden  with  precious  metal.  A  murder 
was  committed  on  board,  and  as  a  punishment  for  it  a 
plague  fell  upon  the  crew.  No  port  would  permit 
the  ship  to  enter,  and  it  was  doomed  to  float  about 
aimlessly  forever.  There  is  no  poetry  and  a  total  ab- 
sence of  the  personal  tragedy  in  that  version.  The 
idea  of  the  salvation  of  the  wanderer  through  the 


240  Richard  Wagner 

self-sacrificing  love  of  woman,  an  idea  to  be  found  in 
literatures  much  older  than  this,  was  introduced  into  the 
story  before  Heine  saw  the  play  of  which  he  wrote. 
It  is  quite  possible  that  Heine  never  saw  such  a  play, 
yet  the  fact  remains  that  in  the  Fitzball  drama  the 
Dutchman  did  take  a  wife,  only,  however,  to  make  an 
offering  of  her  to  a  sea  monster  —  a  grotesque  and 
utterly  unpoetical  idea. 

Wagner  got  his  beautiful  ending  from  Heine.  Mr. 
Hueffer  has  taken  the  trouble  to  retail  the  story  as  told 
in  "The  Memoirs  of  Herr  von  Schnabelewopski." 
The  sentence  of  Van  der  Decken  is  that  he  shall  wan- 
der till  doomsday  unless  he  shall  be  released  by  a  wo- 
man faithful  until  death.  The  Devil  does  not  believe 
in  the  existence  of  women  of  that  sort,  and  therefore 
allows  the  wanderer  to  go  ashore  once  every  seven 
years  to  see  if  he  can  find  such  a  one.  (How  was  it 
that  the  Devil  was  so  often  mistaken  about  women  i^) 
He  meets  with  failure  after  failure,  till  finally  he  falls  in 
with  a  Scotch  merchant,  whose  daughter  has  already 
learned  his  story  and  formed  a  romantic  attachment 
for  him.  She  has  his  picture  in  her  room,  and  when  her 
father,  having  accepted  the  Dutchman's  offer  for  her 
hand,  brings  him  home,  she  at  once  recognises  him  and 
determines  to  sacrifice  herself  to  save  him.  Just  at  this 
point  Herr  von  Schnabelewopski  is  called  away  for  a 
short  time,  and  when  he  returns  he  sees  the  Dutchman 
about  to  sail  away  without  his  wife.  He  loves  her 
and  would  save  her  from  his  fate.  But  she,  true  to 
her  vow,  ascends  a  high  rock,  whence  she  throws 
herself  into  the  sea.  The  spell  is  broken  and  the 
united  lovers  enter  eternal  rest.  The  reader  will  now 
see  that  it  was  the  void  occasioned  by  the  temporary 


The  Flying  Dutchman  241 

absence  of  von  Schnabelewopski  which  Wagner  filled 
with  the  interview  between  Senta  and  Erii<.  Except 
for  the  introduction  of  this  character,  a  tenor,  neces- 
sary to  afford  both  dramatic  and  musical  contrast  to 
the  story,  Wagner  has  followed  Heine  closely,  as  lov- 
ers of  the  dramatist's  works  will  at  once  perceive. 

Out  of  this  material  Wagner  constructed  a  drama 
which  at  the  time  of  its  production  was  as  novel  as 
"Tristan  und  Isolde"  was  in  later  years.  In  it  we 
first  meet  with  this  master's  remarkable  power  of 
concentrating  in  each  scene  the  emotional  moods  and 
pouring  them  out  to  us  in  the  music,  while  in  those 
portions  of  the  score  devoted  to  musical  description, 
such  as  the  sea  music  and  the  sailors'  choruses,  we 
may  note  his  ability  to  make  dramatic  atmosphere. 
How  these  powers  reveal  themselves  to  us  in  the 
grand  duo  of  the  last  scene  of  Siegfried  and  the 
Waldweben  !  It  is  worth  while  hearing  "  Der 
Fliegende  Hollander  "  occasionally,  if  only  to  study  the 
embryonic  Wagner.  Now  let  us  see  how  Wagner 
himself  regarded  the  subject-matter  of  his  story. 

"  The  figure  of  the  Flying  Dutchman,"  he  says,  "is 
a  mythical  creation  of  the  folk.  A  primal  trait  of  hu- 
man nature  speaks  out  from  it  with  a  heart-enthralling 
force.  This  trait,  in  its  most  universal  meaning,  is  the 
longing  after  rest  from  amid  the  storms  of  life."  He 
traces  the  older  forms  of  the  legend  as  seen  in  the  stories 
of  Ulysses  and  the  Wandering  Jew,  and  then  says  : 

"  The  sea  in  its  turn  became  the  soil  of  Life;  yet  no  longer  the  land- 
locked sea  of  the  Grecian  world,  but  the  great  ocean  that  engirdles  the 
earth.  The  fetters  of  the  older  world  were  broken;  the  longing  of 
Ulysses,  back  to  home  and  hearth  and  wedded  wife,  after  feeding  on 

the  sufferings  of  the  '  never-dying  Jew  '  until  it  became  a  yearning  for 
16 


242  Richard  Wagner 

Death,  had  mounted  to  the  craving  for  a  new,  an  unknown  home, 
invisible  as  yet,  but  dimly  boded.  This  vast-spread  feature  fronts  us 
in  the  mythos  of  the  '  Flying  Dutchman,'  that  seaman's  poem  of  the 
world-historical  age  of  journeys  of  discovery.  Here  we  light  upon  a 
remarkable  mixture,  a  blend,  effected  by  the  spirit  of  the  Folk,  of  the 
character  of  Ulysses  with  that  of  the  Wandering  Jew.  The  HoUandic 
mariner,  in  punishment  for  his  temerity,  is  condemned  by  the  Devil 
(here  obviously  the  element  of  Flood  and  Storm)  to  do  battle  with  the 
unresting  waves  to  all  eternity.  Like  Ahasuerus,  he  yearns  for  his 
sufferings  to  be  ended  by  Death;  the  Dutchman,  however,  may  gain 
this  redemption,  denied  to  the  undying  Jew,  at  the  hands  of — a 
Woman  who,  of  very  love,  shall  sacrifice  herself  for  him.  The  yearn- 
ing for  death  thus  spurs  him  on  to  seek  this  Woman ;  but  she  is  no 
longer  the  home-tending  Penelope  of  Ulysses,  as  courted  in  the  days 
of  old,  but  the  quintessence  of  Womankind;  and  yet  the  still  unmani- 
fest,  the  longed-for,  the  dreamt-of,  the  infinitely  womanly  Woman — 
let  me  out  with  it  in  one  word:  the  IVoman  of  the  Future." 

With  this  broad,  poetic  view  of  his  subject-matter 
Wagner  set  out  to  write  a  text  book  which  should  be 
a  real  drama  and  not  a  mere  libretto.  "  From  here," 
he  says,  "begins  my  career  as  poet,  and  my  farewell 
to  the  mere  concoctor  of  opera  texts."  In  this  drama 
are  embodied  the  fundamental  ideas  of  the  entire 
Wagnerian  system.  Here  they  appear  to  us  in  their 
first  stage  of  development,  incomplete,  unformed,  and 
scarcely  recognised  by  their  own  creator.  The  value 
of  the  mythologic  matter,  however,  already  forced 
itself  upon  the  mind,  and  the  conviction  of  its  suita- 
bility to  musical  embodiment,  because  freed  from 
hampering  accessories,  came  to  him  at  this  period  of 
his  career.  I  have  already  quoted  his  words  as  to  the 
employment  of  myths  as  subjects  for  music  dramas. 
1  may  be  pardoned  for  quoting  here  a  passage  from 
my  introductory  essay  in  the  Schirmer  vocal  score  of 
the  drama  ; 


The  Flying  Dutchman  243 

"  Wagner  divined  clearly  the  necessity  of  subordinating  mere  pic- 
torial movement  to  the  play  of  emotion,  and  it  will  easily  be  discerned 
that  the  three  acts  of  '  The  Flying  Dutchman  '  reduce  themselves  to  a 
few  broad  emotional  episodes,  in  the  first  our  attention  is  centred 
upon  the  longing  of  the  Dutchman,  and  in  the  second  upon  the  love 
ofSenta.  In  the  third  we  have  the  inevitable  and  hopeless  struggle 
of  the  passion  of  Erik  against  Senta's  love.  All  music  not  designed 
to  embody  these  broad  emotional  states  is  scenic,  such  as  the  storm 
music  and  choruses  of  the  sailors  and  the  women.  Furthermore 
the  student  will  do  well  to  note  that  the  chief  personages  of  the  story 
are  types.  Van  der  Decken  is  typical  of  the  man  struggling  under 
the  burden  of  his  own  follies,  while  Senta  is  the  embodiment  of  the 
woman-soul,  which,  according  to  Goethe,  'leadeth  us  ever  upward 
and  on.'  " 

In  the  structure  of  this  drama  the  reader  will  find 
that  Wagner  did  not  abandon  the  old  operatic  forms. 
He  employed  duets,  solos,  choruses,  etc.,  as  an  opera 
composer  would.  He  did  not  use  the  leitmotiv  sys- 
tem, but  only  hit  upon  its  fundamental  idea.  He 
did  not  use  the  staff-rhyme.  In  fact  we  find  in  this 
work  only  a  perfectly  sincere  attempt  to  make  a  good 
play  and  to  express  its  feelings  in  music.  He  says 
himself  of  this  work  : 

"  In  it  there  is  so  much  as  yet  inchoate,  the  joinery  of  the  situations 
is  for  the  most  part  so  imperfect,  the  verse  and  diction  so  often  bare  of 
individual  stamp,  that  our  modern  playwrights — who  construct  every- 
thing according  to  a  prescribed  formula,  and,  boastful  of  their  formal 
aptitude,  start  out  to  glean  that  matter  which  shall  best  lend  itself  to 
handling  in  the  lessened  form — will  be  the  first  to  count  my  denomina- 
tion of  this  as  a  '  poem  '  a  piece  of  impudence  that  calls  for  strenuous 
castigation.  My  dread  of  such  prospective  punishment  would  weigh 
less  with  me  than  my  own  scruples  as  to  the  poetical  form  of  the 
'  Dutchman,'  were  it  my  intention  to  pose  therewith  as  a  fixed  and 
finished  entity  ;  on  the  contrary  I  find  a  private  relish  in  here  showing 
my  friends  myself  in  the  process  of  'becoming.'  The  form  of  the 
'  Flying  Dutchman,'  however,  as  that  of  all  my  later  poems,  down 


244  Richard  Wagner 

even  to  the  minutiae  of  their  musical  setting,  was  dictated  to  me  by 
the  subject-matter  alone,  insomuch  as  that  had  become  absorbed  into 
a  definite  colouring  of  my  life,  and  in  so  far  as  I  had  gained  by  practice 
and  experience  on  my  own  adopted  path  any  general  aptitude  for 
artistic  construction." 

In  the  "Autobiographic  Sketch"  he  tells  us  how, 
after  disposing  of  the  first  sketch  to  Pillet,  he  set  to 
work  to  compose  his  own  music. 

"  I  had  now  to  work  post-haste  to  clothe  my  own  subject  with 
German  verses.  In  order  to  set  about  its  composition  I  required  to 
hire  a  pianoforte  ;  for,  after  nine  months'  interruption  of  all  musical 
production,  I  had  to  try  to  surround  myself  with  the  needful  prelimi- 
nary of  a  musical  atmosphere.  As  soon  as  the  piano  had  arrived,  my 
heart  beat  fast  for  very  fear ;  I  dreaded  to  discover  that  I  had  ceased 
to  be  a  musician.  1  began  first  with  the  '  Sailors'  Chorus '  and  the 
'  Spinning  Song ' ;  everything  sped  along  as  though  on  wings,  and  I 
shouted  for  joy  as  1  felt  within  me  that  I  was  still  a  musician." 

This  statement  affords  sufficient  evidence  that  no- 
thing revolutionary  was  in  Wagner's  mind  when  he  sat 
down  to  compose  "Der  Fliegende  Hollander."  No 
vision  of  the  polyphonic  web  of  "  Tristan  und  Isolde  " 
rose  in  his  brain  ;  no  conception  of  an  operatic  score 
in  which  every  melodic  idea  should  have  a  direct 
message.  He  began  with  two  purely  lyric  numbers, 
and  it  was  not  till  he  reached  the  ballad  of  Senta  in 
the  second  act  that  the  first  principles  of  the  leitmotiv 
system  dawned  upon  him,  and  then  only  in  such 
shape  as  they  had  occurred  to  others  before  him.  The 
ballad  as  a  whole  is  a  purely  lyric  number,  written  in 
a  plain  song  form  ;  but  in  it  occur  the  two  principal 
typical  themes  of  the  drama.  The  first  is  that  de- 
signed to  represent  the  Dutchman  as  a  wanderer 
without   rest  : 


The  Flying  Dutchman  245 


The  second  theme,  a  broad,  flowing,  tender  melody, 
is  designed  to  typify  the  redeeming  principle,  the 
self-sacrificing  love  of  the  woman. 


In  the  "Communication  to  My  Friends  "  he  says  : 

"  In  this  piece  I  unconsciously  laid  the  thematic  germ  of  the  whole 
music  of  the  opera  :  it  was  the  picture  in  petto  of  the  whole  drama 
such  as  it  stood  before  my  soul  ;  and  when  I  was  about  to  betitle  the 
finished  work,  I  felt  strongly  tempted  to  call  it  a  'dramatic  ballad.' 
In  the  eventual  composition  of  the  music  the  thematic  picture,  thus 
evoked,  spread  itself  quite  instinctively  over  the  whole  drama  as  one 
continuous  tissue  ;  I  had  only  without  further  initiative  to  take  the 
various  thematic  germs  included  in  the  ballad  and  develop  them  to 
their  legitimate  conclusions,  and  I  had  all  the  chief  moods  of  this  poem, 
quite  of  themselves,  in  definite  shapes  before  me.  I  should  have  had 
stubbornly  to  follow  the  example  of  the  self-willed  opera-composer 
had  I  chosen  to  invent  a  fresh  motive  for  each  recurrence  of  one  and 
the  same  mood  in  different  scenes  ;  a  course  whereto  I  naturally  did 
not  feel  the  smallest  inclination,  since  I  had  only  in  mind  the  most  in- 
telligible portrayal  of  the  subject-matter  and  not  a  mere  conglomerate 
of  operatic  numbers." 

One  other  musical  thought  in  this  work  must  here 
be  enumerated  because  of  a  special  meaning  which  it 
had  for  its  composer.  In  1866  Ferdinand  Praeger  was 
dining  with  Wagner  in  Munich,  when  the  conversa- 
tion turned  upon  "the  weary  mariner,  his  yearning 
for  land  and  love,  and  Wagner's  own  longing  for  his 
fatherland  at  the  time  he  composed  the  'Dutchman.'  " 


246 


Richard  Wagner 


Wagner  went  to  the  piano,  and  said,  "The  pent-up 
anguish,  the  homesickness  that  then  held  possession 
of  me,  were  poured  out  in  this  phrase  "  : 


"At  the  end  of  the  phrase,"  continued  Wagner, 
"on  the  diminished  seventh,  in  my  mind  I  brooded 
over  the  past,  the  repetitions,  each  higher,  inter- 
preting the  increased  intensity  of  my  sufferings." 

The  "Flying  Dutchman,"  then,  is  the  product  of 
Wagner's  genius  in  its  embryonic  stage.  The  grasp 
of  tradition  and  operatic  convention  upon  his  mind  is 
not  yet  shaken  off.  The  chorus  of  sailors  in  the  first 
finale  is  in  a  popular,  rhythmical,  melodic  vein  and 
might  almost  have  been  written  by  a  Frenchman. 
The  opening  of  Act  11.  is  constructed  on  wholly  oper- 
atic lines,  with  its  gay  chorus  followed  by  the  dra- 
matic ballad.  Then  follow  two  purely  operatic  scenes, 
the  duets  of  Senta  and  Erik  and  Senta  and  the  Dutch- 
man. In  the  last  act  the  paucity  of  material  forced 
Wagner  to  spin  his  web  very  thin  indeed.  He  con- 
sumes as  much  time  as  possible  with  his  theatrically 
contrasting  choruses  of  merry-making  betrothal  guests 


The  Flying  Dutchman  247 


and  ghostly  wanderers  of  the  sea.  The  machinery  of 
the  stage  creaks  through  the  whole  scene  till  the  en- 
trance of  Senta  and  Erik  brings  us  once  more  face  to 
face  with  human  nature.  The  scene  is  brief,  and  it  is 
not  to  be  praised.  It  would  have  been  more  beautiful 
to  make  the  Dutchman  depart  out  of  sheer  love  for 
Senta  and  unwillingness  to  win  salvation  through  her 
sacrifice.  But  the  act  ends  effectively.  Perhaps  the 
most  striking  proof  in  all  this  curious  score  that  Wag- 
ner had  not  yet  found  himself  is  in  the  duet  of  Daland 
and  the  Dutchman  in  Act  I.  The  Dutchman  asks  if 
Daland  has  a  daughter  and  on  receiving  an  affirmative 
reply,  says,  "  Let  her  be  my  wife."  Daland,  "joyful 
yet  perplexed,"  exclaims  : 

"  Wie  ?    Hor  ich  recht  ?    Meine  Tochter  sein  Weib  ? 
Er  selbst  sprichtaus  den  Gedanken!  " 

And  with  this  Wagner  ushers  in  a  very  Italian  duet: 


Wie?      Hor' ich  recht?   Mei-ne      Toch  -  ter  sein  Weib ?       Er 

-V- 


m- 

S^^ — 5 — S- 

r^ — r     i  j 

**= 

— ^ ^ — 

selbst      spricht  ans 

den      Ge 

-     dan    -     -    ken. 

[^              -.-] = 

pz 

pp 

1  J  J  r~j~j — 



— —I 

f- 


248  Richard  Wagner 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  not  a  few  manifesta- 
tions in  "  Der  Fliegende  Hollander"  of  the  future 
Wagner.  In  the  first  place,  the  overture  is  a  splendid 
exemplification  of  his  musical  style  and  his  method  of 
construction  and  it  employs  some  of  the  materials 
of  the  opera  in  a  masterly  manner.  Again  the  solo 
of  the  steersman,  succeeded  by  the  outburst  of  the 
storm  and  the  appearance  of  the  Dutchman's  ship 
upon  the  raging  deep,  produces  an  effect  similar  to 
that  of  the  song  of  the  sailor  followed  by  the  passion- 
ate utterances  of  Isolde  in  the  first  scene  of  "  Tristan 
und  Isolde."  The  solo  of  the  Dutchman  in  Act  I., 
while  more  conventional  in  its  melodic  manner  than 
Wagner's  later  music,  gives  a  foretaste  of  the  power 
exhibited  in  the  second  act  of  "Lohengrin"  in  ex- 
pressing dark  and  bitter  moods.  In  the  musical  and 
dramatic  characterisation  of  Daland  one  may  discern 
something  of  the  facility  which  afterward  made  so 
much  of  Hans  Sachs.  Indeed  in  characterisation  more 
than  in  anything  else  does  this  opera  herald  the  com- 
ing master,  for  Van  der  Decken,  Senta  and  Daland  are 
clearly  and  completely  drawn  musically  and  dramat- 
ically. They  are  living  figures  in  the  gallery  of  Wag- 
ner portraits  ;  and  while  we  may  not  deny  that  "  Der 
Fliegende  Hollander "  is  a  comparatively  weak  pro- 
duction, we  would  not  readily  part  with  the  dreamful, 
devoted,  ill-fated  Senta. 

In  the  instrumentation,  also,  one  finds  evidences  of 
the  real  Wagner.  The  high,  shrieking  brass  chords 
of  the  diminished  seventh,  heard  in  the  "  Rienzi " 
overture,  are  here  repeated;  the  rich  use  of  divided 
strings  is  found  ;  and  the  beautiful  employment  of 
wide  harmonies  in  the  wood  wind  leads  the  mind 


The  Flying  Dutchman  249 

forward  toward  the  final  exit  of  Elizabeth  in  "  Tann- 
hauser"  and  the  entrance  of  Elsa  in  "Lohengrin." 
But,  view  this  work  as  we  may,  we  cannot  regard  it 
as  standing  beside  the  two  lyric  dramas  of  the  transi- 
tion period.  It  is  the  work  of  an  independent  and 
gifted  mind  of  28,  a  work  of  radiant  promise,  but  not 
of  mature  genius. 


TANNHAUSER  UND  DER  SANGERKRIEG  AUF 
WARTBURG 

Grand  Romantic  Opera  in  Three  Acts. 

First  performed  at  the  Royal  Saxon  Court  Theatre, 
Dresden,  October  19,  1845. 


Original  Cast. 


.    Dettmer. 

Tichatschek. 

Mitterwurzer. 

Schloss. 

.    Wachter. 

Gurth. 

Risse. 


Hermann,  Landgrave  of  Thuringia 

Tannhauser 

Wolfram  von  Eschenbach 

Walther  von  der  Vogelweide 

Biterolf      .... 

Heinrich  der  Schreiber 

Reimar  von  Zweter   . 

Elizabeth,  Niece  of  the  Landgrave, 

Fraulein  Johanna  Wagner. 
Venus  ....  Mme.  Schroeder-Devrient. 
A  Young  Shepherd        .         .         .       Fraulein  Thiele. 

Weimar,  1849  ;  Schwerin  and  Breslau,  Freiburg  and 
Weisbaden,  1852;  Konigsberg,  Hamburg,  Darmstadt, 
Elbing,  Cassel,  Frankfort,  Posen,  Leipsic,  Riga,  Bar- 
men, Bremen,  Bromberg,  Cologne,  Danzig,  DUssel- 
dorf,  Prague,  and  Stralsund,  1853  ;  Wolfendbuttel, 
Rostock,  Reval,  Neisse,  Magdeburg,  Glogau,  Mayence, 
Gumbinnen,   Gratz,   Aix-la-Chapelle,  Augsburg,  and 

250 


Tannhauser 


251 


Stettin,  1854;  Strassburg,  Lubeck,  Coburg,  Bamberg, 
Munich,  Mannheim,  Antwerp,  Zurich,  Wurzburg, 
Carlsruhe,  Hanover,  1855  ;  Berlin,  1856  ;  Vienna, 
Dessau,  and  Sondershausen,  1857  ;  Stuttgart,  1859  ; 
New  York,  April  4,  1859;  Rotterdam,  i860;  Paris, 
1861  ;  Brunswick,  1861  ;  Olmutz  and  Amsterdam, 
1862;  Munich,  Paris  version,  1867  :  The  Hague,  1870; 
Budapesth,  1871  ;  Bologna,  1872  ;  Brussels,  1873  ; 
Lucerne,  1874;  Copenhagen,  187s;  London  (Italian), 
May  6,  1876;  New  York  (Italian)  and  Moscow,  1877; 
Trieste,  1878;  Innspruck  and  Salzburg,  1880  ;  Ghent 
and  London  (English),  1881. 

First  performed  in  America  at  the  Stadt-Theater, 
New  York,  April  4,  1859. 


Cast. 


Hermann    . 

Tannhauser 

Wolfram     . 

Walther      . 

Biterolf 

Heinrich  der  Schreiber 

Reimar  von  Zweter 

Iflizabeth    . 

Venus 

Shepherd    . 


Graff. 

Pickaneser. 

Lehmann. 

Lotti. 

Urchs. 

Bolten. 

.      Brandt. 

Mme.  Siedenburg. 

Mme.  Pickaneser. 

(Not  given). 


Conductor,  Carl  Bergmann. 


TANNHAUSER 

With  "Tannhauser"  we  enter  upon  what  may 
fairly  be  called  the  transition  period  of  the  genius  of 
Wagner.  While  in  certain  passages  this  work  is 
quite  as  much  indebted  to  older  opera  as  "Der  Flie- 
gende  Hollander,"  and  in  others  falls  into  a  cheap  and 
tawdry  style  of  melody  quite  unworthy  of  its  com- 
poser, it  nevertheless  contains  parts  which  rise  to 
heights  never  before  attained  except  perhaps  in  Beetho- 
ven's "  Fidelio. "  The  book  will  especially  repay  study, 
for  in  it  we  find  the  first  complete  demonstration 
of  Wagner's  powers  as  a  dramatist  and  a  dramatic 
poet.  His  skilful  weaving  of  the  dramatic  web  out 
of  materials  scattered  and  apparently  unrelated  places 
him  among  the  masters  of  theatrical  writing.  It  will 
be  our  pleasure  first  to  examine  the  sources  of  the 
drama  and  the  manner  in  which  Wagner  employed 
them. 

"Tannhauser "  was  first  conceived  by  Wagner  in 

1 84 1,  and  the  scenic  sketches,  with  the  provisional 
title  "Venusberg,   Romantic  Opera,"  were  made  in 

1842.  The  poem  was  finished  on  May  22,  1843. 
Owing  to  his  being  occupied  with  the  preparations 
for  the  production  of  "Der  Fliegende  Hollander" 
and  with  other  matters,  Wagner  did  not  complete  the 
score  till  April  13,  1845.  When  the  work  was  in 
preparation  for  performance  at  the  Paris  Grand  Opera 

252 


Tannhauser  253 

m  1 86 1,  Wagner  rewrote  some  portion  of  the  score. 
The  reader  will  recall  that  the  members  of  the  Jockey 
Club  demanded  their  usual  terpsichorean  titbit,  but 
that  Wagner  would  not  consent  to  write  an  ordinary 
ballet  and  thrust  it  into  his  drama  at  a  certain  hour. 
He  insisted  that  the  ballet  should  take  its  proper  place 
in  the  dramatic  scheme  and  that  it  should  have  a 
meaning. 

He  accordingly  wrote  a  new  and  careful  elaboration 
of  the  scene  in  the  Venusberg  at  the  opening  of  Act 
1.  In  the  first,  or  Dresden,  version  of  the  work  the 
overture  is  a  complete  number,  and  as  such  is  fre- 
quently heard  on  the  concert  platform.  In  the  Parisian 
version  the  overture  does  not  come  to  an  end,  but  at 
the  second  appearance  of  the  bacchanalian  music  the 
curtain  rises  and  the  ballet  begins.  It  is  descriptive 
of  the  revels  of  the  realm  of  Venus — "a  wild  and 
yet  seductive  chaos  of  movements  and  groupings,  of 
soft  delight,  of  yearning  and  burning,  carried  to  the 
most  delicious  pitch  of  frenzied  riot."*  He  then  ex- 
tended the  dialogue  between  Venus  and  Tannhauser 
to  a  scene  of  considerable  dimensions,  its  chief  pur- 
pose being  a  further  revelation  of  the  character  of 
Venus.  Undoubtedly  this  Parisian  version  was 
nearer  to  Wagner's  heart  than  his  first  one,  but  its 
music  does  not  well  bear  critical  examination,  for  the 
style  of  the  added  part  is  that  of  the  "Tristan"  period, 
while  the  old  "Tannhauser"  music  is  of  a  much  more 
primitive  sort. 

So  much  for  the  writing  of  the  opera.  It  is  a 
curious  fact  that  Wagner  has  recorded  as  his  sources 

♦Wagner,  "  On  the  Performing  of  Tannhauser,"  Prose  Works,  Ellis, 
Vol.  111. 


254  Richard  Wagner 

of  inspiration  a  book  which  cannot  be  found  and  a 
condition  which  did  not  exist.  He  says  that  while 
"Rienzi"  was  in  preparation  at  Dresden,  the  German 
"Voll<:sbuch"  of  "Tannhauser"  fell  into  his  hands. 
Now  no  one  has  ever  been  able  to  find  such  a  book, 
and  learned  authorities  declare  that  there  never  was 
one.  But  Wagner  further  says  that  he  had  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Tannhauser  in  Tieck's  narrative, 
which  he  now  reread.  He  read  also  the  "Tann- 
hauserlied."  He  says  :  "What  most  irresistibly  at- 
tracted me  was  the  connection,  however  loose, 
between  Tannhauser  and  the  '  Singer's  Tourney  in  the 
Wartburg,'  which  I  found  established  in  that  Folk's 
book."  With  this  second  subject  he  had  already 
made  some  acquaintance  in  a  tale  of  Hoffmann,  and 
he  now  decided  to  read  the  mediaeval  epic,  "  The 
Sangerkrieg."  There  is  no  connection  at  all  between 
the  incidents  of  the  old  Tannhauser  legend  and  "The 
Sangerkrieg."  This  is  a  condition  which  Wagner 
himself  created,  and  his  error  in  supposing  that  he  had 
discovered  it  in  the  legend  is  an  amusing  instance  of 
the  occasional  inability  of  genius  to  analyse  its  own 
workings.  What  Wagner  did  was  to  accept  Lucas's 
identification  of  Tannhauser  with  one  of  the  person- 
ages in  the  epic,  thus  bringing  the  two  stories  to- 
gether, as  we  shall  presently  see. 

The  legend  of  Tannhauser  is  found  in  old  folk 
tales,  mostly  in  the  popular  form  of  ballads.  An 
English  translation  of  one  of  these,  printed  with  the 
original  music  in  Bohme's  "  Altdeutsches  Lieder- 
buch,"  is  reproduced  in  Jessie  Weston's  excellent 
work,  "  Legends  of  the  Wagner  Drama."  The  story 
contained   in  this  is  that  Tannhauser,  a  knight,  has 


Tannhauser  255 

spent  much  time  in  the  cave  of  Venus,  but  has  grown 
weary  and  would  depart.  Venus  tells  him  that  he  has 
sworn  a  solemn  oath  with  her  "for  aye  to  dwell." 
He  denies  that  he  has  so  sworn.  She  offers  him  her 
fairest  maid  as  wife  if  he  will  stay,  but  he  declines, 
saying, 

"  Nay,  an  I  took  another  wife, 
1  here  bethink  me  well, 
My  lot  for  all  eternity 
Would  be  the  flames  of  hell." 

Venus  still  pleads  with  him  and  bids  him  think 
upon  her  charms  and  the  joys  of  Hfe  in  the  Venus- 
berg.  He  declares  that  his  "life  is  waxen  sick  and 
faint,"  and  again  begs  for  leave  to  go.  Finally  he 
calls  upon  the  Virgin  to  aid  him.  Then  Venus  tells 
him  to  go,  but  adds  that  wherever  he  goes  he  shall 
sing  her  praise.  He  departs,  and  determines  to  seek 
Pope  Urban  at  Rome  and  ask  absolution.  The  Pope, 
who  holds  in  his  hand  a  withered  staff,  says  : 

"This  staff  shall  bud  and  bloom  again 
Ere  grace  to  thee  be  shown." 

Tannhauser  in  despair  returns  to  the  arms  of  Venus. 
On  the  third  day  after  his  departure  from  Rome  the 
staff  buds  and  blossoms.  The  Pope  seeks  for  Tann- 
hauser, but  it  is  too  late  ;  he  has  returned  to  his  sin, 
and  for  this  Pope  Urban's  soul  is  to  be  counted  lost  on 
the  Judgment  Day. 

There  is  absolutely  nothing  in  that  story  to  suggest 
any  connection  with  the  contest  of  minnesingers  in 
the  Castle  of  Wartburg  in  1204  a.d.,  the  year  in  which 
Wolfram  von  Eschenbach  is  known  to  have  been  the 


256  Richard  Wagner 

guest  of  Hermann,  Landgrave  of  Thuringia.  This  con- 
test is  described  in  the  poem,  or  collection  of  poems 
called  the  "Wartburgkrieg,"  which  dates  from  the 
13th  century  and  gives  us  an  interesting  view  of  the 
Court  of  Hermann  of  Thuringia.  It  is  not  certain  that 
all  of  this  poem  has  come  down  to  us,  nor  do  we 
know  who  wrote  it.  Simrock,  the  German  editor  of 
the  work,  believed  that  its  earliest  part  was  written 
about  1233.  Some  verses,  believed  to  have  been  by 
Walther  von  der  Vogelweide,  appear  in  the  work. 
The  latest  part  of  it  probably  dates  from  1287. 

The  poem  contains  no  such  contest  in  song  as  that 
which  takes  place  in  the  second  act  of  Wagner's 
drama,  but  it  does  describe  a  debate  as  to  the  glories 
of  certain  princes.  Heinrich  von  Ofterdingen,  Hein- 
rich  der  Schreiber,  Walther  von  der  Vogelweide, 
Biterolf,  and  Reimar  von  Zweter  take  part  in  the  dis- 
cussion, while  Wolfram  von  Eschenbach,  the  famous 
author  of  ' '  Parzival, "  is  the  umpire.  It  was  in  reading 
this  poem  that  Wagner's  attention  was  called  to  Wol- 
fram and  his  works,  and  thus  he  discovered  the  leg- 
endary world  of  "  Lohengrin  "  and  "Parsifal."  The 
"  Wartburgkrieg  "  contains  other  matter,  but  that  just 
summarised  is  all  that  Wagner  found  for  his  "Tann- 
hauser."  He  got  from  the  mediaeval  epic  the  atmos- 
phere of  Hermann's  Court,  for  this  potentate  was 
famous  in  his  day  as  a  patron  of  poetry  and  an 
encourager  of  the  art  of  the  knightly  minnesinger. 
He  obtained  also  the  idea  of  the  contest  of  song  — 
which  in  history  was  rather  one  of  poetry  —  and  the 
names  of  the  historical  minnesingers.  In  adopting 
this  material  to  his  dramatic  purpose  Wagner  omitted 
Heinrich  of  Ofterdingen  and  substituted  Tannhiiuser 


Tannhauser  257 

for  him.  He  furthermore  changed  the  subject  of  the 
controversy. 

Whence  came  the  lovely  character,  one  of  the 
noblest  of  all  Wagner's  heroines,  Elizabeth,  the  Land- 
grave's niece  ?  She  is  not  to  be  found  in  the  Tann- 
hauser legend  nor  in  the  "  Wartburgkrieg."  It  is 
altogether  certain  that  Wagner  found  the  suggestion 
for  this  beautiful  character  in  the  story  of  Saint  Eliza- 
beth of  Hungary,  the  daughter-in-law  of  Hermann  of 
Thuringia.  She  was  affianced  in  childhood  to  the 
Landgrave's  eldest  son  Ludwig  ;  and  when  married 
the  pair  led  a  rigorously  monastic  life  and  devoted 
themselves  to  holiness.  Ludwig  died  young  and  his 
brother  Heinrich  was  harsh  to  Elizabeth.  The  pure 
and  lofty  stature  of  this  saintly  princess  furnished 
Wagner  with  the  personality  which  he  needed  as  the 
element  of  opposition  to  the  baneful  influence  of 
Venus. 

We  have  now  before  us  the  sources  from  which 
Wagner  drew  the  materials  for  this  noble  drama.  Let 
us  see  how  he  utilised  his  matter.  In  the  first  scene 
we  behold  Tannhauser  in  the  arms  of  Venus,  sick  and 
weary  of  sensual  delight  and  eager  to  return  to  the 
smell  of  the  green  grass  and  the  song  of  birds,  and 
still  more  to  the  rhythmic  alternation  of  pain  and 
pleasure  which  makes  the  song  of  human  life.  His 
senses  are  nauseated  with  their  own  ceaseless  gratifi- 
cation. Who,  then,  is  this  Venus,  and  what  is  she 
doing  in  the  subterranean  world  of  the  12th  century.? 
She  is  plainly  the  Venus  of  Roman  mythology,  the 
Aphrodite  of  the  Greeks,  the  Astarte  of  the  Phoe- 
nicians. The  atmosphere  which  surrounds  her  is  that 
of  the  classic  Venus.     She  is  further  identified  by  the 


258  Richard  Wagner 

pictures  of  Leda  and  the  Swan  and  Europa  and  the 
Bull,  taken  from  classic  fable  and  illustrating  strata- 
gems of  the  passion  over  which  Venus  presided. 
Before  the  Romans  pushed  their  way  into  Germany, 
the  old  Teutonic  mythology  had  its  goddess  Freya, 
the  wife  of  Odin,  queen  and  leader  of  the  Valkyrs. 
But  the  Scandinavian  myth  made  Frigg,  or  Fricka,  the 
queen,  and  Freya  the  second  in  rank.  She  was  the 
goddess  of  love  and  beauty.  The  South  German  races 
confounded  the  two  and  added  qualities  not  known 
in  the  northern  mythology.  They  made  Freya  co- 
incident on  one  side  with  Hel,  the  goddess  of  the 
underworld  and  of  the  dead,  and  on  the  other  with 
Holda,  the  goddess  of  the  spring,  of  budding  and 
fructification.  Thus  when  the  Romans  carried  their 
mythology  into  Germany  it  was  not  at  all  extraordin- 
ary that  the  attributes  of  Freya  and  Venus  should  have 
become  mingled  in  the  minds  of  the  people. 

These  simple-minded  people  did  not  readily  part 
with  their  poetic  mythology  when  Christianity  mas- 
tered their  hearts.  The  old  deities  were  supposed  to 
have  retired  into  caves  or  mountains,  there  to  dwell 
till  recalled  to  activity.  Venus,  according  to  various 
traditions,  lived  in  more  than  one  cave,  but  her 
favourite  abode  was  the  Horselberg  in  Thuringia. 
The  propinquity  of  this  cave  to  the  Castle  of  Wart- 
burg  naturally  led  Wagner  to  choose  it  as  the  scene  of 
Tannhiiuser's  retirement.  In  the  drama  the  knight's 
feelings  and  desires  are  precisely  the  same  as  those  of 
the  hero  of  the  old  legend.  Wagner  adds  the  beauti- 
ful poetic  touches  of  his  yearning  to  hear  the  song  of 
birds  and  once  more  to  suffer  pain.  Furthermore  he 
makes  it  clear  to  us  that  the  Venus  of  his  imagination 


Tannhauser  259 

was  not  without  womanly  feeling,  and  that  her  pas- 
sion for  Tannhauser  was  a  very  real  one.  She  scorn- 
fully gives  him  leave  to  go,  but  it  is  finally  his 
despairing  cry  to  the  Virgin  for  aid  which  acts  as  a 
charm  to  remove  the  spell  of  enchantment.  He  in- 
stantly finds  himself  in  the  valley  before  the  Wartburg, 
and  hears  the  tinkling  of  sheep-bells,  while  a  young 
shepherd  carols  a  lay  to  the  May  and  to  Holda,  the 
representative  of  the  beneficent  side  of  the  evil  god- 
dess just  left.  It  is  in  such  details  of  fancy  as  these 
that  Wagner  demonstrates  his  right  to  consider 
himself  a  poet. 

With  the  disappearance  of  the  red  and  glittering 
cave  of  Venus  and  the  appearance  of  the  cool,  fresh 
greens  of  the  landscape — a  striking  pictorial  contrast, 
full  of  theatrical  effectiveness,  and  showing  Wagner's 
employment  of  the  combined  arts  of  poety,  music, 
painting,  and  action  in  the  new  dramatic  form — we 
enter  the  domain  of  the  "  Wartburgkrieg."  The 
Tannhauser  of  the  old  legend  steps  into  the  shoes  of 
Heinrich  of  Ofterdingen.  The  adventure  which  has 
befallen  him  is  not  unsuited  to  his  character,  for  the 
real  Tannhauser  was  a  bit  of  a  Don  Juan  and  had 
many  "affairs."  It  seems  that  he  repented  and 
became  a  wiser  and  a  better  man  in  later  life.  In  the 
ballad  Venus  foretold  that  he  would  sing  her  praises 
wherever  he  went,  but  in  the  drama  this  prediction  is 
made  by  Tannhauser  in  the  first  scene.  That  Wagner 
had  a  purpose  in  the  change  is  shown  by  Tannhiiuser's 
outbreak  in  the  hall  of  song.  Efforts  have  been  made 
to  prove  that  Heinrich  of  Ofterdingen  and  Tannhauser 
were  one  and  the  same  person,  for  the  existence  of 
the  former  is  problematical,  and  also  to  prove  that 


26b  Richard  Wagner 

Tannhauser  did  really  visit  the  Court  of  Hermann. 
Neither  has  been  established  as  a  fact.  The  matter  is 
of  little  importance  to  us.  The  personages  in  the  song 
contest,  except  Tannhauser,  are  historical,  and  Wag- 
ner has  been  faithful  in  his  representation  of  their 
characters.  He  has  chosen  for  dramatic  purposes  to 
accentuate  the  poetic  side  of  Wolfram's  character. 
Wolfram  was  celebrated  as  a  champion  of  Christianity, 
and  was  an  ardent  advocate  of  nobility  of  heart  in 
woman  in  preference  to  merely  external  beauty.  In 
the  very  beginning  of  his  "Parzival "  he  says  : 

"  Many  women  are  praised  for  beauty;  if  at  heart  they  shall  be  untrue, 
Then  I  praise  them  as  1  would  praise  it,  the  glass  of  a  sapphire  hue, 
That  in  gold  shall  be  set  as  a  jewel  I     Tho'  1  hold  it  an  evil  thing, 
If  a  man  take  a  costly  ruby,  with  the  virtue  the  stone  doth  bring, 
And  set  it  in  a  worthless  setting:  I  would  liken  such  a  costly  stone 
To  the  heart  of  a  faithful  woman,  who  true  womanhood  doth  own. 
I  would  look  not  upon  her  colour,  nor  the  heart's  roof  all  can  see  ; 
If  the  heart  beateth  true  beneath  it,  true  praise  shall  she  win  from 
me."  * 

In  the  hall  of  song  the  contest  is  on  a  similar  theme, 
and  Wolfram  was  well  chosen  by  Wagner  to  oppose 
the  passionate  ideas  of  the  wandering  Tannhauser. 
Walther  von  der  Vogelweide  has  little  importance  in 
Wagner's  "Tannhauser,"  but  is  mentioned  again  in 
"Die  Meistersinger,"  when  young  Walther  von  Stol- 
zing  claims  him  as  master.  Vogelweide  was  a  poet  of 
renown  in  his  day,  a  contemporary  of  Wolfram,  a 
Tyrolean  by  birth  and  a  lyric  singer.  He  was  a  man 
of  station  and  had  an  estate  nearWurzburg,  where  he 
was  buried.     Reimar  was  also  a  notable  poet  in  his 

♦"Parzival,"  a  knightly  epic,  by  Wolfram  von  Eschenbach. 
Translation  by  Jessie  L.  Weston.     London,  David  Nutt. 


Tannhauser  261 

day,  but  of  Biterolf  little  is  known  except  that  there 
was  such  a  man. 

These  are  the  personages  who  greet  Tannhauser 
when  Wagner's  wonderful  transformation  scene  has 
closed,  when  the  effect  of  the  beautiful  pictorial 
change  has  died  away,  and  the  solemn  strains  of  the 
pilgrims'  chorus,  so  gently  beneficent  after  the  pas- 
sionate witcheries  of  the  wild  bacchanal,  have  melted 
into  the  distance.  And  with  the  advent  of  these  his- 
toric figures  there  begins  the  operation  of  the  elevat- 
ing principle  of  the  drama,  the  influence  of  Elizabeth. 
With  their  simple  and  yet  aspiring  spirits  they  furnish 
a  beautiful  contrast  to  the  carnal  creatures  whom  we 
have  just  left  in  the  Horselberg.  The  latter  typified 
the  gratification  of  the  senses,  while  these  are  an  ex- 
pression of  the  higher  desires  of  man,  presently  to  be 
shown  to  us  in  their  loftiest  embodiment,  the  eternal 
woman-soul,  which  "  leadeth  us  ever  upward  and 
on." 

In  the  experience  of  Tannhauser  Wagner  has  set  be- 
fore us  the  struggle  of  the  pure  and  the  impure,  the 
lusts  and  the  aspirations  of  man's  nature.  It  is  essen- 
tially the  tragedy  of  the  man.  We  may  try  as  we 
please  to  exalt  the  importance  of  Elizabeth  as  a  drama- 
tic character,  but  the  truth  is  that  she  is  merely  the 
embodiment  of  a  force.  Tannhauser  is  typical  of  his 
sex,  beset  on  the  one  hand  by  the  desire  of  the  flesh, 
which  satiates  and  maddens,  and  courted  on  the  other 
by  the  undying  loveliness  of  chaste  and  holy  love.  If 
ever  a  sermon  was  preached  as  to  the  certainty  with 
which  the  sins  of  the  flesh  will  find  a  man  out  it 
is  preached  in  the  second  act  of  this  tremendous 
tragedy,  when  the  flame  of  old  passions  sears  the  front 


262  Richard  Wagner 

of  new  happiness  and  drives  the  errant  out  of  para- 
dise. 

Here  Wagner  has  risen  far  above  his  material.  In 
the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  the  mediaeval  contest  of 
song  he  has  displayed  active  fancy,  for  the  scene  as 
presented  is  his  rather  than  history's.  In  the  culmina- 
tion of  the  catastrophe  he  has  w^rought  with  the  craft 
of  genius,  for  in  the  period  of  which  he  wrote  the 
yielding  of  a  man  to  sensual  temptation  would  never 
have  caused  such  a  stir.  Tannhauser  would  have 
been  damned  rather  for  worshipping  a  heathen  god- 
dess, an  enemy  of  the  Christian  Church,  than  for 
slumbering  in  the  soft  embraces  of  a  wanton.  Hence, 
though  struck  to  the  heart  by  more  than  mortal 
wound,  Elizabeth  thinks  first  of  her  lover's  sin  : 

'  Was  liegt  an  mir  ?     Doch  er — sein  Heil! 
WoUt  Ihr  sein  ewig  Heil  ihm  rauben  ?  " 

"What  matters  it  for  me?  But  he — his  salvation  ! 
Would  you  rob  him  of  his  eternal  salvation  ?"  With 
this  beautiful  plea  of  the  stricken  Elizabeth  Wagner 
shows  how  perfectly  he  understood  the  tragic  ele- 
ments of  his  story,  for  he  makes  the  saving  principle 
again,  as  in  "Der  Fliegende  Hollander,"  one  of  self- 
effacement,  a  love  faithful  unto  death. 

In  the  final  act  Elizabeth,  her  last  hope  of  the  return 
of  Tannhauser  gone,  consecrates  her  soul  to  heaven, 
relinquishes  the  desire  of  life,  and  ascends  to  her  last 
home.  Wolfram,  who  has  loved  her,  and  who  thus 
becomes,  in  his  self-sacrifice,  a  foil  to  the  passionate 
and  self-gratifying  Tannhauser,  sits  at  the  foot  of  the 
Horselberg  and  philosophises  to  the  evening  star. 
Tannhauser  returns,  cursed  by  Rome,  and  plunged  in 


Tannhauser  263 

despair.  His  narrative  is  the  climax  of  power  in  the 
opera,  one  of  the  most  intensely  tragic  pieces  of  writ- 
ing in  all  dramatic  literature.  His  senses  reel;  the  old 
world  of  lusts  and  passions  opens  the  portals  of  its 
rosy  dreamland,  and  the  songs  of  its  sirens  again 
lure  him  back  to  the  arms  of  Venus  and  bury  the 
newly  awakened  soul  in  the  depths  of  sensual  de- 
bauchery. But  no;  the  eternal  feminine  still  strives  to 
save.  The  sainted  Elizabeth,  dead,  is  yet  the  guard- 
ian angel  of  this  poor  wanderer,  and  as  her  funeral 
bier  is  laid  before  him  he  sinks  beside  it  with  the  last 
unutterably  pathetic  supplication  of  a  still  repentant 
spirit: 

"  Heilige  Elizabeth,  bitte  fiir  mich!  " 

"Holy  Elizabeth,  pray  for  me."  And  Wolfram  pro- 
nounces the  benediction  in  the  words,  "  Er  ist  erlost" 
("he  is  redeemed").  The  sprouting  staff  of  the 
Pope,  which  has  followed  him  from  Rome,  is  laid 
upon  his  dead  body,  and  the  solemn  chorus  of  the 
pilgrims  chant  the  entrance  of  his  purified  spirit  into 
its  eternal  rest.  Thus  did  Wagner,  out  of  the  simple 
and  unrelated  materials  of  the  old  Tannhauser  myth 
and  the  "  Wartburgkrieg,"  fashion  the  tragedy  of  a 
man's  soul.  Women  never  find  in  "Tannhauser" 
all  that  a  man  finds  there.  The  experience  of  the 
story  lies  beyond  the  pale  of  the  feminine  nature,  but 
every  man  must  bow  his  head  in  reverence  to  the 
genius  which  thus  made  quick  the  battle  of  passion 
against  purity  for  the  possession  of  the  masculine 
soul.  Wagner  wrote  no  mightier  tragedy  than 
this.* 

*It  is  worthy  ot  note  tiiat  in  1863  there  was  printed  in  Mobile,  Ala., 


264  Richard  Wagner 

The  music  of  "  Tannhauser"  commands  less  admir- 
ation tiian  the  book.  Some  of  it  is  worthy  of  the 
mature  Wagner,  but  much  is  trivial  and  some  is  posi- 
tively weak  and  puerile.  Wagner  had  not  yet  grasped 
a  new  conception  of  the  lyric  drama;  he  had  thus  far 
only  enlarged  and  extended  the  old  one.  He  was 
not  yet  ready  to  set  aside  all  the  old  formulae;  but  he 
was  striving  to  give  them  a  new  significance.  Hence 
in  "Tannhauser"  there  are  passages  of  a  familiar 
operatic  cut,  such  as  the  scene  of  Tannhauser  and  the 
courtiers  in  the  first  act,  ending  with  the  finale  of  that 
act,  the  duet  between  Tannhauser  and  Elizabeth  in 
Act  II.,  and  Wolfram's  address  to  the  evening  star  in 
Act  111.  On  the  other  hand,  most  of  the  score  shows 
wide  departures  from  the  older  operatic  manner. 
There  is  a  sincere  attempt  to  make  the  musical  forms 
follow  the  poem.  There  is  an  abundance  of  real 
dialogue,  in  which  the  setting  of  the  text  is  con- 
structed on  the  purest  dramatic  lines.  This  is  es- 
pecially true  of  the  scene  between  Tannhauser  and 
Venus,  the  debate  in  the  hall  of  song,  and  the  narra- 
tive of  Tannhauser.  But  such  admirable  pieces  of 
writing  as  the  address  of  the  Landgrave  to  the  contest- 
ants and  the  pathetic  prayer  of  Elizabeth  have  also  a 
large  dramatic  value  because  of  their  perfect  embodi- 
ment of  the  feeling  of  the  scene. 

a  long  blank-verse  poem,  entitled  "  Tannhauser ;  or,  The  Battle  of  the 
Bards,"  by  Neville  Temple  and  Edward  Trevor.  This  was  a  paraphrase 
— and  in  some  places  a  translation — of  Wagner's  opera  book.  It  was 
written  by  two  young  men  in  the  English  civil  service  in  Germany  and 
sent  over  to  America  by  a  friend,  it  transpired  that  ' '  Edward  Trevor " 
was  no  less  a  personage  than  Robert,  Lord  Lytton,  better  known  as 
Owen  Meredith,  author  of  "  Lucile." 


Tannhauser  265 

The  leitmotiv  is  not  employed  in  "Tannhauser." 
Arthur  Smolian  wrote  a  pamphlet  on  the  music  of  this 
opera.  It  was  prepared  for  the  Bayreuther  Tascheti- 
buch  of  189 1  and  translated  into  English  by  the  inde- 
fatigable Ashton  Ellis.  It  professes  to  name  and 
catalogue  the  leading  motives  of  "  Tannhauser,"  but 
what  it  really  does  is  to  prove  that  there  are  none. 
The  author  quotes  Wagner:  "The  essential  feature  of 
Tannhauser's  character  is  his  instant  and  complete 
saturation  with  the  emotions  called  up  by  the  passing 
incident,  and  the  lively  contrasts  which  the  sudden 
changes  of  situation  produce  in  his  utterance  of  this 
fulness  of  feeling.  Tannhauser  is  never  a  '  little ' 
anything,  but  each  thing  fully  and  completely."  Mr. 
Smolian  says:  "With  the  foregoing  words,  in 
which  Wagner  defines  the  nature  of  his  hero,  we 
might  also  most  fittingly  describe  the  individuality  of 
the  'Tannhauser  music."  Here,  then,  he  should 
have  stopped,  for  he  had  spoken  the  truth,  and  his 
thematic  catalogue  is  misleading.  The  music  of 
"  Tannhauser"  is  nearly  all  written  freely  for  the  in- 
vestiture of  the  passing  mood,  and  those  portions 
which  are  accorded  special  meaning  and  are  used 
for  repetition  may  speedily  be  enumerated  and  dis- 
missed. 

These  divide  themselves  naturally  into  two  classes, 
representing  respectively  the  good  and  the  evil  princi- 
ple of  the  action.  These  themes,  which  have  such 
significance  that  they  are  repeated  in  the  exposition  of 
the  drama,  are  first  heard  and  most  easily  identified 
in  the  magnificent  overture.  This  opens  with  a  serene 
statement  of  the  theme  typifying  the  holy  thought,  the 
religious  mood  of  the  good  characters   in  the  play. 


266 


Richard  Wagner 


This  thought  is  employed  as  the  melody  of  a  chorus 
of  pilgrims,  and  it  reappears  in  a  triumphant  proclama- 
tion at  the  end  of  the  drama  when  the  good  principle 
emerges  victorious  from  the  battle  against  the  evil  : 


^   T 


The  intoning  of  this  solemn  melody  is  interrupted  in 
the  overture  by  the  intrusion  of  the  music  of  the 
bacchanalian  orgies  in  the  cave  of  Venus,  which 
begins   with   this  phrase,  given   out   by  the   violas: 


Tannhauser's  hymn  in  praise  of  Venus  appears  in  the 
overture  and  is,  of  course,  again  heard  in  the  first 
scene  of  the  drama.  It  is  repeated  with  immense 
significance,  but  not  at  all  in  the  manner  of  a  leit- 
motiv, in  the  scene  of  the  hall  of  song. 


Tannhauser 


267 


p 


A 


Si^ 


«:^^ 


-f—r- 


t-^J^ 


-1 — I- 


Dir     to  -  ne     Lob  1 

J. 


^^^^ 


S^^ 


Die    Wunder  sei'n  ge  -  prie  -    sen. 

I 


i^^ 


s=^g-s- 


Harp.  ff 


^m=z^=^ 


is- — 2~^ 


3=±-^t- 


:^? 


±=.1= 


yz^ 


In  the  overture  the  listener  will  hear  after  one  of  the 
passages  of  turbulence  this  theme  intoned  by  a  clarinet. 


A^ 


Ge  -  liebt  -  er,     komml      Sieh'   dort   die    Grot  -  te,      von 


:^: 


'^m^i 


gen        Duf    -    ten      mild        darch 


waUtI 


Later  he  will  recognise  its  significance, 
when  in  the  first  scene  he  hears  it  sung  by  Venus 
with  the  words  of  pleading.  The  reader  is  now 
in  possession  of  all  the  thematic  ideas  of  the  score 
of  "Tannhauser"  which  approach  in  their  nature 
the  musical  phrases  employed  by  Wagner  in  later 
works.  And  yet  it  is  only  an  approach.  In  the 
second  act,  when  Wolfram  is  preaching  the  beauties 
of  ideal  love,  thoughts  of  the  unbridled  gratifications 
of  the  Horselberg  flash  through  Tannhauser's  mind 
and  we  are  informed  of  it  by  the  repetition  of  the 
bacchanale  motive.  And  when  at  length,  taunted 
into  recklessness  by  the  words  of  his  opponents,  Tann- 
hauser launches  into  the  praise  of  sensual  love,  he 
naturally  does  so  in  the  hymn  to  Venus  from  the  first 


268  Richard  Wagner 

scene.     And  that  is  the  extent  of  the  repetition  of 
primary  material  in  the  second  act. 

In  the  third  act,  when  Tannhauser  in  his  despair 
calls  upon  Venus,  we  are  informed  of  her  appearance 
before  his  fancy  by  the  return  of  the  bacchanalian 
music.  We  also  see  her  revealed  in  the  rosy  light  of 
her  cavern,  but  this  is  a  complete  concession  to  the 
public  want  of  imagination.  Wagner's  original  in- 
tention was  to  let  the  music  tell  the  story  of  her  near- 
ness, but  he  came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  would  not 
be  understood,  and  so  he  placed  Venus  and  her  court 
before  our  eyes.  With  the  return  of  the  pilgrims' 
chorus  at  the  end  of  the  drama  we  meet  the  last  repe- 
tition of  a  thematic  idea.  In  none  of  these  repetitions 
is  the  leitmotiv  method  employed.  They  are  simply 
such  repetitions  as  Gounod  makes  in  "Faust"  when 
the  mad  Marguerite  imagines  she  hears  again  the  first 
salutation  of  Faust,  or  in  "Romeo  et  Juliette,"  when 
the  dying  Romeo's  disordered  mind  carries  him  back 
to  the  chamber  scene  and  "Non,  ce  n'est  pas  le  jour." 

The  dramatic  power  of  "Tannhauser"  is  not  to  be 
sought  in  evidences  of  the  development  of  the  future 
Wagnerian  system  except  in  the  fidelity  of  the  music  to 
the  underlying  thought,  and  of  the  masterful  employ- 
ment of  operatic  materials  hitherto  used  wholly  with  a 
view  to  musical  effectiveness.  In  characterisation,  too, 
this  score  shows  an  advance  over  that  of  "  Der  Flie- 
gende  Hollander,"  which  itself  was  far  ahead  of  its 
contemporaries.  Wagner  himself  lays  stress  upon 
the  deep  significance  of  passages  of  free  composition. 
For  example,  he  says  that  in  the  stanza  which  Tann- 
hauser sings  in  the  finale  of  the  second  act  ("Zum 
Heil  den  Sundigen  zu  Fuhren  ") — a  stanza  which  is 


Tannhauser  269 

usually  buried  by  the  ensemble — "lies  the  whole 
significance  of  the  catastrophe  of  Tannhauser,  and 
indeed  the  whole  essence  of  Tannhauser  ;  all  that  to 
me  makes  him  a  touching  phenomenon  is  expressed 
here  alone."  And  various  remarks  in  his  long  and — 
for  the  theatre — important  essay  on  the  performing  of 
"Tannhauser"  show  how  far  from  his  mind  in  the 
preparation  of  this  work  was  the  fully  developed 
Wagnerian  system  of  "Tristan  und  Isolde."  The 
union  of  the  arts  tributary  to  the  drama  in  the  "art 
work  of  the  future  "  had  already  been  conceived  by 
him,  and  the  greatness  of  "Tannhauser,"  together 
with  the  causes  of  its  radical  difference  from  the 
typical  opera  of  its  time,  must  be  sought  in  the 
evidences  of  Wagner's  successful  employment  of  this 
union.  Neither  verse  nor  music  had  yet  disclosed  the 
complete  Wagner ;  but  here  we  find  the  master  in 
his  transitional  stage.  The  puissant  eloquence  of  the 
vital  scenes  of  "Tannhauser"  will  long  keep  it  before 
the  public  in  spite  of  its  inherent  weaknesses. 


LOHENGRIN 


Romantic  Opera  in  Three  Acts. 

First  performed  at  the  Court  Theatre,  Weimar,  August 
28,  1850. 

Original  Cast. 

Lohengrin Becl<. 

Teiramund Milde. 

King  Henry Hofer. 

Herald Patsch. 

Ortrud           ....         Fraulein  Fastlinger. 
Elsa Fraulein  Agthe. 

Wiesbaden,  1853  ;  Stettin,  Breslau,  Frankfort, 
Schwerin,  Leipsic,  1854  ;  Hanover,  Darmstadt,  Riga, 
Prague,  Hamburg,  Cologne,  1855  ;  Wurzburg,  May- 
ence,  Carlsruhe,  1856  ;  Munich,  Sondershausen, 
Vienna,  1857  ;  Dresden,  Berlin,  Mannheim,  1859  ; 
Danzig,  Konigsberg,  i860;  Rotterdam,  1862;  Gratz, 
1863;  Budapesth,  1866;  Dessau,  1867;  Milan,  Cassel, 
Baden,  St.  Petersburg,  1868;  Olmutz,  Stuttgart, 
Gotha,  1869;  Brussels,  Brunswick,  Magdeburg,  The 
Hague,  Copenhagen,  1870;  Bologna,  New  York,  1871 ; 
Nuremberg,  Florence,  i872;Lubeck,  1873;  Stockholm, 
Strassburg,  1874;  Boston,  1875;  London,  Covent  Gar- 
den, May  8,  1875;  Dublin,  1875:  Basle,  Trieste,  1876; 

270 


Lohengrin 


271 


San  Francisco,  Philadelphia,  Chemnitz,  Crefeld, 
Temesvar,  Salzburg,  Melbourne,  Lemburg,  1877; 
Gorlitz,  Barmen,  Regensburg,  Rome,  1878;  Altona, 
Liegnitz,  1879;  London  (English),  Genoa,  1880;  Liver- 
pool, Antwerp,  Venice,  Nice,  Naples,  Moscow,  Mad- 
rid, Munster,  1881;  Innspruck,  Barcelona,  1882. 

First  performed  in  America  in  German  at  the  Stadt 
Theater,  New  York,  April  3,  187 1,  under  Adolf 
Neuendorff. 


Cast. 


Lohengrin 

Telramund 

King  Henry 

Herald 

Ortrud 

Elsa 


Theodore  Habelmann. 

Herr  Vierling. 

Herr  Franosch. 

.    W.  Formes. 

Mme.  Frederici. 

Mme.  Louise  Lichtmay. 


First  performance  in   Italian,  Academy  of  Music, 
March  23,  1874. 


Cast. 

Lohengrin 

Telramund     . 

King  Henry  . 

Herald 

Ortrud 

Elsa       . 

.     Italo  Campanini. 

Giuseppe  del  Puente. 

Giovanni  Nannetti. 

A.  Blum. 

Annie  Louise  Gary. 

.   Christine  Nilsson. 


LOHENGRIN 

I.— The  Book 

When  he  was  collecting  the  materials  for  "Tann- 
hauser,"  Wagner,  as  we  have  seen,  read  the  "Parzi- 
val "  of  Wolfram  von  Eschenbach.  The  last  one 
hundred  lines  of  that  poem  contains  one  of  the  versions 
of  the  story  of  Lohengrin.  It  is  an  insufficient  story, 
however,  and  would  not  in  itself  have  provided  the 
foundation  of  Wagner's  most  popular  work.  As  I 
have  said  in  my  introduction  to  the  Schirmer  edition  of 
the  vocal  score  of  "Lohengrin,"  "Wagner's  method 
of  literary  composition  was  to  gather  all  the  versions 
of  a  national  mythological  legend,  and  select  the  inci- 
dents and  characters  which  fitted  into  his  plan."  This 
plan,  of  course,  grows  out  of  his  perception  of  the 
dramatic  possibilities  of  the  story.  The  sources  of 
Wagner's  poem,  then,  in  addition  to  "  Parzival,"  were 
"  Der  Jungere  Titurel,"  a  poem  by  Albrecht  von  Scharf- 
fenberg,  giving  a  full  account  of  the  Holy  Grail  and 
its  guardians,  and  also  recounting  the  life  and  death  of 
Lohengrin  after  leaving  Brabant  ;  Der  Schwanen-Rit- 
ter,  by  Konrad  von  Wijrzburg,  a  poem  dating  from 
the  latter  half  of  the  thirteenth  century;  "  Lohengrin," 
a  poem  by  an  unknown  Bavarian  poet,  and  the  popular 
form  of  the  legend  as  given  by  the  Grimm  Brothers 
in  the  "Deutsche  Sagen." 

272 


Lohengrin  273 

At  Marienbad  in  the  summer  of  1845  he  laid  down 
the  outlines  of  his  plan,  and  in  the  winter  ensuing  he 
wrote  the  book  and  invented  some  of  the  melodic 
ideas.  He  began  the  actual  composition  of  the  opera 
with  the  narrative  of  Lohengrin  in  the  final  scene, 
because,  like  the  ballad  of  Senta,  that  monologue  con- 
tained the  most  significant  musical  germs  in  the  whole 
score.  While  living  at  Grossgraufen,  near  Pilnitz,  he 
wrote  the  music  of  the  third  act  between  September 
9,  1846,  and  March  5,  1847.  The  first  act  was  com- 
posed between  May  12  and  June  8,  1847,  and  the 
second  act  between  June  i8th  and  August  2d  of  the 
same  year.  The  prelude  was  finished  on  August  28, 
1847,  and  the  instrumentation  was  made  during  the 
following  winter  and  spring.  The  score  of  the  opera 
was  not  published  for  several  years,  because  Meser, 
who  had  printed  the  previous  works  of  the  composer, 
had  lost  money  by  the  ventures.  Breitkopf  &  Hiirtel 
subsequently  secured  the  score  at  a  small  price,  not 
because  they  were  niggardly  in  offering,  but  because 
Wagner's  works  had  no  large  market  value  at  the 
time,  and  he  was  anxious  to  sell,  being  in  his  chronic 
condition  of  financial  embarrassment. 

The  Lohengrin  poem  gives  the  story  thus  :  Elsa, 
daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Brabant,  is  left  in  care  of 
Frederic  of  Telramund.  He  aspires  to  her  hand,  but 
she  refuses  him.  He  then  accuses  her  before  the 
Emperor  of  having  promised  to  be  his  wife  and  hav- 
ing broken  the  promise.  The  Emperor  declares  that 
the  case  must  be  tried  by  the  ordeal  of  battle.  A  pass- 
ing falcon  falls  at  Elsa's  feet  with  a  bell  tied  to  its  leg. 
In  her  agitation  she  rings  the  bell.    The  sound  reaches 

Monsalvat,  where  it  acts  as  a  summons  to  Lohengrin, 
18 


2  74  Richard  Wagner 

the  son  of  Parzival.  A  swan  appears  on  the  river  and 
Lohengrin  knows  that  he  is  ordered  to  go  with  it. 
On  arriving  at  Antwerp,  five  days  later,  Lohengrin  is 
received  with  honour,  and  with  Elsa  sets  out  for  the 
court  of  the  Emperor  at  Mayence.  There  the  combat 
is  fought  and  Telramund  defeated.  Lohengrin  mar- 
ries Elsa,  having  extracted  from  her  the  promise  not 
to  ask  his  name  or  country.  They  live  together  two 
years.  Then  in  a  joust  Lohengrin  conquers  the  Duke 
of  Cleves  and  breaks  his  arm.  The  Duchess  of  Cleves 
sneers  at  Lohengrin  because  no  one  knows  who  he  is. 
This  preys  on  the  mind  of  Elsa  till  she  asks  the  fatal 
question.  Then  Lohengrin,  in  the  presence  of  the 
Emperor  and  the  Court,  tells  his  story,  steps  into  the 
swan-boat  and  vanishes. 

The  story  of  the  "  Chevalier  au  Cygne,"  as  found  in 
the  Grimm  version  also,  is  evidently  a  combination  of 
two  legends.  The  first  deals  entirely  with  the  trans- 
formation of  human  beings  into  swans,  and  the  sec- 
ond with  the  Swan-Knight.  The  mother-in-law  of  a 
queen,  out  of  hatred,  endeavours  to  make  away  with 
her  seven  children,  each  of  whom  was  born  with  a 
silver  chain  about  its  neck,  and  to  throw  suspicion  on 
the  queen.  She  gives  them  to  a  knight  to  slay,  but 
he  contents  himself  with  leaving  them  in  a  wood, 
where  they  are  found  and  cared  for  by  a  hermit.  The 
king's  mother  subsequently  learns  that  the  children 
are  still  alive,  and  sends  a  servant  to  kill  them  and 
bring  the  chains  as  evidence.  He  finds  six  children, 
one  having  gone  on  a  short  journey  with  the  hermit, 
and  when  he  takes  the  chains  off  their  necks  they 
turn  into  swans  and  fly  away.  The  king's  mother 
now  brings  the  false  accusation  against  the  queen, 


Lohengrin  275 

and  the  king  declares  that,  unless  a  champion  can  be 
found  to  establish  her  innocence,  she  must  die.  An 
angel  goes  to  Helyas,  the  son  who  was  not  found  by 
the  servant,  and  tells  him  who  he  is  and  of  his  mother's 
danger.  Helyas  goes  to  Court,  declares  himself,  fights 
for  his  mother,  and  conquers.  The  chains  are  brought 
forth,  the  six  swans  fly  in,  Helyas  puts  the  chains 
around  their  necks,  and  they  resume  their  human 
forms. 

Subsequently  Helyas  sees  a  swan  appear,  drawing 
a  boat,  and  knows  that  he  is  summoned.  At  Nim- 
wegen  he  finds  that  before  the  Emperor  Otto  the 
Duchess  of  Bouillon  has  been  accused  by  her  brother- 
in-law  of  poisoning  her  husband.  The  Emperor  has 
ordered  the  settlement  of  the  case  by  the  ordeal  of 
combat.  Helyas  defends  the  Duchess,  overthrows 
her  accuser,  marries  her  daughter,  and  becomes  the 
father  of  Godfrey  of  Bouillon.  After  seven  years  the 
Duchess  asks  the  fatal  question,  and  Helyas,  without 
answering  it,  goes  away  forever  in  his  swan-boat. 
The  reader  will  easily  discover  in  the  latter  part  of 
this  story  how  the  Lohengrin  legend  has  been  used  to 
manufacture  a  supernatural  father  for  Godfrey  of 
Bouillon.  It  was  not  at  all  uncommon  for  the  poets 
of  the  mediseval  period  thus  to  celebrate  the  mighty. 

We  have  now  before  us  the  chief  materials  out  of 
which  Wagner  made  his  beautiful  dramatic  poem,  for 
the  story  of  Wolfram's  "  Parzival  "  served  principally 
to  set  him  on  the  track,  and  to  make  suggestions  as 
to  the  character  of  Elsa.  That  story  tells  simply  that 
the  Duchess  of  Brabant  refused  to  be  the  wife  of  any 
man  save  him  whom  God  should  send  her,  and  so 
Lohengrin  came  and  the  marriage  took  place,  with  the 


276  Richard  Wagner 

stipulation  that  he  should  not  be  asked  his  name  or 
race.  After  some  years  she  asked  the  fatal  question 
and  he  returned  to  Monsalvat. 

The  Elsa  of  Wolfram  was  evidently  inclined  to  be- 
come a  nun,  but  in  two  lines  of  the  "  Parzival " 
Wagner  found  a  suggestion  as  to  her  nature  of  which 
he  made  eloquent  use  in  his  first  act  : 

"  In  God  was  her  trust,  whatever  men  might  in  their  anger  speak, 
And,  guiltless,  she  bare  the  vengeance  her  folks  on  her  head  would 
wreak." 

The  absolute  confidence  of  Wagner's  Elsa  in  the 
readiness  of  Providence  to  send  her  the  knight  of 
whom  she  had  dreamed  and  her  unresisting  attitude 
in  the  presence  of  her  accuser  and  her  king  were 
certainly  drawn  from  these  lines  of  Wolfram's. 

From  the  story  of  the  Swan-Knight  he  gathered 
the  idea  of  the  transformation  of  a  human  being  into 
a  swan  by  a  malignant  woman,  and  his  tremendously 
dramatic  development  of  this  idea  is  seen  in  the  plot 
of  his  opera.  The  accusation  of  Telramund  is  in- 
creased by  the  assertion  that  Elsa  has  murdered  her 
brother,  a  suggestion  drawn,  of  course,  from  the 
accusation  against  the  queen  in  the  "Chevalier  au 
Cygne."  He  has  in  reality  been  transformed  into  a 
swan  by  Ortrud,  the  wife  of  Telramund,  a  character 
wholly  invented  by  Wagner.  It  is  she  who  performs 
the  office  attributed  in  the  old  story  to  the  Duchess  of 
Cleves,  that  of  inspiring  distrust  and  questionings  in 
the  mind  of  Elsa.  The  character  of  Telramund  is  the 
merest  sketch  in  the  sources  of  the  drama  and  its 
individuality  is  entirely  the  result  of  Wagner's  dra- 
matic skill. 


Lohengrin  277 

The  scene  is  laid  at  Antwerp,  as  it  is  in  the  Bavarian 
poet's  version,  but  is  retained  there  instead  of  being 
shifted  to  Mayence.  The  heroine  is  the  Duchess  of 
Brabant.  The  monarch,  however,  is  not  Otto,  but 
Henry  I.,  who  reigned  from  918  to  936.  In  his  treat- 
ment of  this  character  Wagner  adheres  to  historic 
truth.  Henry  was  a  progressive  and  an  aggressive 
monarch,  and  he  not  only  led  his  people  in  successful 
wars  against  the  Huns,  but  brought  order  out  of 
political  chaos  at  home.  It  is  to  these  historical  mat- 
ters that  the  King  refers  in  the  speeches  of  the  open- 
ing scene  of  the  opera. 

In  the  old  stories  the  Knight  has  several  days  in 
which  to  reach  the  woman  in  distress  and  fight  for 
her.  Wagner  has  made  this  episode  far  more  dramatic 
by  requiring  the  immediate  presence  of  the  champion, 
by  the  ingenious  plan  of  having  the  first  call  unan- 
swered, and  by  making  the  fight  for  Elsa's  life  and 
honour  take  place  at  once.  The  arrival  of  Lohen- 
grin is  one  of  the  most  theatrically  effective  scenes  in 
all  opera,  and  the  sweet  and  gentle  farewell  to  the 
swan,  following  the  hubbub  of  excitement,  affords 
one  of  those  splendid  musical  contrasts  which  are 
to  be  found  in  all  Wagner's  works  and  which  are,  as 
in  this  case,  entirely  his  own.  The  first  act  of  the 
opera  leans  heavily  on  the  sources  of  the  story,  but 
the  reader  can  have  no  difficulty  in  seeing  how  in- 
geniously Wagner  has  utilised  his  materials.  At  the 
end  of  the  combat  it  has  in  recent  years  been  the  cus- 
tom to  employ  a  piece  of  stage  business,  authorised 
by  the  Bayreuth  management,  which  is  destructive  of 
much  of  the  effect  of  the  scene,  and  obviously  contrary 
to   Wagner's    original   conception.     Lohengrin  does 


278  Richard  Wagner 

not  fell  Telramund  "with  one  mighty  stroke,"  as  the 
stage  direction  in  the  score  says  he  should,  but  holds 
his  sword  on  high,  while  Frederic,  without  being 
struck  at  all,  falls,  overcome  by  the  mysterious  power 
which  emanates  from  it.  Of  course  this  belittles  the 
knightly  character  of  Lohengrin,  who  conquers  not 
by  his  prowess,  but  by  the  intervention  of  super- 
natural power,  and  furthermore  it  is  opposed  to  the 
text.  The  Herald  in  his  address  to  the  combatants 
just  before  the  King's  prayer  says  : 

"  Durch  bosen  Zaubers  List  und  Trug 
Stort  nicht  des  Urtheils  Eigenschaft." 

"  By  evil  magic's  cunning  and  deceit  distort  not  the 
nature  of  the  judgment. "  The  meaning  of  that  speech 
is  certainly  a  prohibition  of  the  exercise  of  supernatural 
power  by  Lohengrin.  And  in  the  old  stories  it  is 
always  related  that  he  defeated  his  opponent  in  equal 
combat.  The  supernatural  element  is  sufficiently  to 
the  fore  in  this  first  scene  in  the  appearance  of  the 
Swan-Knight  in  answer  to  the  prayer  and  in  reward 
of  the  faith  of  the  innocent  maiden  under  accusation. 
The  love  of  Lohengrin  for  Elsa  is  in  accordance  with 
the  old  stories,  and  so  is  Elsa's  offer  of  her  crown,  her 
domain,  and  herself.  To  the  fall  of  the  curtain  at  the 
end  of  Act  1.  Wagner  followed  the  sources  of  his  story 
closely,  the  changes  being  such  as  1  have  pointed  out, 
and  chiefly  of  a  kind  demanded  by  the  technics  of 
dramatic  construction. 

But  with  the  second  act  we  enter  a  chapter  more 
fully  the  product  of  Wagner's  genius.  The  original 
sources  give  only  suggestions  of  it.  The  scene  be- 
tween Telramund  and  Ortrud  at  the  beginning  of  this 


Lohengrin  279 

act,  so  much  disliked  by  those  to  whom  only  the  sac- 
charine melodies  of  love  and  mystic  knighthood  are 
pleasing,  is  one  of  the  most  important  in  the  drama. 
Telramund,  robbed  of  sword  and  fame,  reproaches 
Ortrud  for  inducing  him  to  make  the  accusation  against 
Elsa.  He  recognises  the  sacred  character  of  Lohengrin, 
but  Ortrud  scoffs  at  it.  She  calls  her  husband's  atten- 
tion to  the  condition  imposed  upon  Elsa  by  Lohengrin, 
that  she  must  ask  neither  his  name  nor  the  place 
whence  he  came.  Ortrud  reveals  the  fact  that  if  he  is 
forced  to  answer  this  question  his  power  is  at  an  end. 
But  Ortrud  further  counsels  her  husband  to  proclaim 
that  the  victory  was  won  by  magic,  thus  breaking  the 
law  of  the  sacred  ordeal.  Still  further  she  says  that, 
if  Lohengrin  can  only  be  wounded  in  the  slightest 
way,  his  power  will  vanish.  To  Telramund  she  en- 
trusts this  part  of  the  task,  while  for  herself  she  re- 
serves the  business  of  inspiring  distrust  in  the  mind  of 
Elsa. 

She  addresses  the  maiden  on  her  balcony  in  the  ac- 
cents of  despair.  Elsa  in  pity  descends  to  lead  her 
into  the  house.  Then  Wagner  makes  use  of  the  me- 
diaeval belief  that  the  old  pagan  gods  had  not  ceased  to 
exist,  but  were  temporarily  in  retirement  from  the 
assaults  of  Christianity.  Ortrud,  who  is  a  pagan  at 
heart,  calls  on  the  old  Norse  gods  to  aid  her  in  over- 
throwing these  Christian  enemies  of  theirs.  When 
Elsa  appears,  this  dark  woman  at  once  expresses  her 
fear  that  a  knight  who  appeared  by  magic  may  disap- 
pear. Elsa's  trust  is  not  yet  to  be  shaken,  and  Ortrud 
follows  her  into  the  house.  When  Elsa  and  her  train 
are  moving  toward  the  church,  Ortrud  claims  the  right 
of  precedence  and,  like  the  Duchess  of  Cleves  in  the 


28o  Richard  Wagner 

old  tale,  flings  the  taunt  of  Lohengrin's  namelessness 
at  Elsa.  Again  the  maiden  defends  her  spouse  elect. 
Lohengrin  and  the  King  appear.  Telramund,  carrying 
out  his  part  of  the  task,  comes  forward  and  declares 
that  Lohengrin  conquered  him  by  the  aid  of  magic. 
The  King  and  the  nobles,  with  full  faith  in  the  nature 
of  the  judgment,  refuse  to  listen  to  him.  He  then 
whispers  to  Elsa  that  if  she  will  admit  him  to  the 
chamber  that  night  he  will  clear  all  doubt.  Lohengrin 
orders  him  away  and  leads  Elsa  into  the  minster. 

Throughout  this  act  the  immense  dramatic  skill  of 
Wagner  is  manifested.  With  only  a  few  meagre  sug- 
gestions from  the  old  legends, — basic  ideas,  indeed, 
but  undeveloped, — he  built  up  an  act  of  extraordinary 
dramatic  power  and  musical  fecundity.  In  its  con- 
struction this  act  equals  anything  in  the  entire  range 
of  opera.  The  effective  series  of  pictures,  ranging 
from  the  dismal  pair  on  the  cathedral  steps  in  the 
gloom,  through  that  of  Elsa  apostrophising  her  lover 
on  the  moonlit  balcony,  the  entrance  into  the  house  of 
the  two  women  in  the  glimmer  of  the  torches,  the 
break  of  day,  and  the  growing  glitter  of  the  festal 
morning  with  its  pageant,  up  to  the  splendid  climax 
of  the  scene  in  the  denouncement  of  Frederic  and  the 
final  entry  into  the  church,  are  as  ingeniously  arranged 
as  anything  in  the  Meyerbeerian  operas  ;  but  these 
scenes  succeed  one  another  in  a  perfectly  natural  and 
poetical  sequence,  and  without  forcing  theatrical  craft 
upon  our  attention.  And  in  this  act  Wagner  develops 
with  transcendent  power  the  characters  of  Ortrud 
and  Telramund.  Of  the  malignant  pagan  sorceress 
his  own  words  are  the  best  description.  In  one  of  the 
letters  to  Liszt  he  says  : 


Lohengrin 


281 


"  Ortrud  is  a  woman  who  does  not  know  love.  By  this  everything 
most  terrible  is  expressed.  Politics  are  her  essence.  A  political  man 
is  repulsive,  but  a  political  woman  is  horrible.  This  horror  1  had  to 
represent.  There  is  a  kind  of  love  in  this  woman,  the  love  of  the  past, 
of  dead  generations,  the  terribly  insane  love  of  ancestral  pride  which 
finds  its  expression  in  the  hatred  of  everything  living  and  actually  ex- 
isting. In  man  this  love  is  ludicrous,  but  in  woman  it  is  terrible,  be- 
cause a  woman,  with  her  strong  natural  desire  for  love,  must  love 
something ;  and  ancestral  pride,  the  longing  after  the  past,  turns  in 
consequence  to  murderous  fanaticism.  In  history  there  are  no  more 
cruel  phenomena  than  political  women.  It  is  not  therefore  jealousy  of 
Elsa,  perhaps  for  the  sake  of  Frederic,  which  inspires  Ortrud,  but  her 
whole  passion  is  revealed  only  in  the  scene  of  the  second  act,  where, 
after  Elsa's  disappearance  from  the  balcony,  she  rises  from  the  steps  of 
the  minster  and  invokes  her  old,  long-forgotten  gods.  She  is  a  reac- 
tionary person,  who  thinks  only  of  the  old  and  hates  everything  new 
in  the  most  ferocious  meaning  of  the  word  ;  she  would  exterminate 
the  world  and  nature  to  give  new  life  to  her  decayed  gods.  But  this 
is  not  merely  an  obstinate,  morbid  mood  in  Ortrud  ;  her  passion  holds 
her  with  the  full  weight  of  a  misguided,  undeveloped,  objectless  femi- 
nine desire  for  love  ;  for  that  reason  she  is  terribly  grand." 

This  Ortrud  of  Wagner's  touches  hands  with  the 
Lady  Macbeth  of  Shakespeare.  The  same  ambition, 
the  same  political,  unsexed  womanhood,  the  same 
desperate  daring,  and  the  same  brazen  resolve  appear 
in  both.  Both  seek  a  throne  by  foul  means.  Both  are 
labouring  for  their  husbands,  and  both  fear  the  weak- 
ness of  the  spouse.  Ortrud  might  fairly  take  from  the 
lips  of  Lady  Macbeth  her  invocation  : 

"  Come,  you  spirits 
That  tend  on  mortal  thoughts,  unsex  me  here  ; 
And  fill  me,  from  the  crown  to  the  toe,  top-full 
Of  direst  cruelty  !     Make  my  tiiick  blood. 
Stop  up  th'  access  and  passage  to  remorse  ; 
That  no  compunctious  visitings  of  nature 
Shake  my  purpose,  nor  keep  peace  between 
Th'  affect  and  it !  " 


282  Richard  Wagner 

Telramund,  "infirm  of  purpose,"  like  Macbeth,  is 
swayed  and  mastered  by  the  superior  force  of  his 
wife's  indomitable  will  and  insatiable  ambition.  Fate 
follows  his  footsteps  as  relentlessly  as  it  does  those  of 
the  Thane  of  Cawdor,  and  when  he  falls  a  victim  to 
vaulting  ambition,  which  overleaps  itself,  he  falls  a 
victim  of  Nemesis. 

The  last  act  places  before  us  several  salient  features 
of  the  original  material.  Elsa,  not  after  years  of 
married  bliss,  but  on  the  bridal  night,  asks  the  fatal 
question.  Here  Wagner  shows  a  deep  appreciation  of 
the  poetic  possibilities  of  the  theme,  undoubtedly  sug- 
gested to  him  by  the  resemblance  of  the  situation  to 
that  of  Zeus  and  Semele  in  classic  fable.  Elsa  never 
could  have  grasped  the  essential  nature  of  this  sacred 
messenger,  and  so  Wagner  cuts  the  knot  by  ending 
the  marriage  at  its  very  outset,  before  the  final  surren- 
der of  the  heroine's  womanhood.  Lohengrin  was 
never  hers  ;  she  was  never  his.  Frederic's  last  at- 
tempt follows  the  utterance  of  the  question,  and  then 
before  the  assembled  court,  on  the  river  bank  where 
first  he  appeared,  Lohengrin  tells  the  marvellous,  thrill- 
ing tale  of  Monsalvat,  the  Holy  Grail  and  his  origin, 
opening  to  us  for  a  few  moments  the  cathedral  vistas 
of  Wagner's  "TeDeum," — "Parsifal."  Ortrud  pre- 
maturely triumphs  and  announces  that  the  swan  is  the 
missing  brother  :  she  herself  placed  the  chain  about 
his  neck.  Lohengrin  calls  upon  God,  and  the  spell  is 
broken.  The  rightful  heir  of  Brabant  is  restored  to  his 
sister's  arms,  and  the  Swan-Knight  floats  away  in  his 
shallop,  this  time  drawn  by  a  dove,  the  messenger  of 
heaven.  The  reader  will  have  no  difficulty  now  in 
recognising  the  sources  of  these  incidents,  except,  per- 


Lohengrin  283 

haps,  in  the  death  of  Telramund,  which  was  suggested 
to  Wagner,  as  was  the  idea  of  robbing  Lohengrin  of 
his  saintly  power  by  wounding  him,  by  passages  in 
"Der  jungere  Titurel."  The  narrative  of  Lohengrin  is 
suggested  by  Wolfram's  "Parzival." 

One  more  note  must  be  made  before  we  pass  to  a 
brief  examination  of  the  music  of  Wagner's  most 
popular  work.  There  is  a  strange  resemblance 
between  some  of  the  fundamental  features  of  the  story 
of  "Lohengrin"  and  those  of  "Der  Fliegende  Hol- 
lander." Senta  and  Elsa  are  both  dream-haunted 
maidens.  Both  dream  of  lovers.  About  each  of  the 
lovers  there  is  something  mystic  or  supernatural. 
Each  of  the  lovers  is  to  come  to  the  maiden  from  the 
water.  In  each  case  the  maiden  is  called  upon  to  sub- 
mit to  a  certain  ordeal,  and  her  failure  is  to  result  in 
the  return  of  the  lover  to  the  element  from  which  he 
came.  And  in  one  element  of  the  story  the  fact  is 
similar,  but  the  relations  of  the  personages  changed. 
In  one  a  maiden  is  to  save  the  lover  ;  in  the  other,  the 
lover  comes  as  a  champion  and  saviour.  Is  it  not  pos- 
sible that  the  origin  of  the  two  legends  is  the  same, 
the  story  of  Skeaf,  the  mysterious  king  of  the  Angles, 
who  drifted  to  their  shores  in  a  rudderless  shallop 
when  a  babe,  and  grew  to  be  a  good  and  great  mon- 
arch ?  When  he  died,  they  laid  his  body  in  the 
shallop  and  the  little  vessel  floated  away  into  the 
unknown,  whence  it  came. 

II. — The  Music 

And  now  let  us  look  at  the  music  of  this  opera, 
music  which  is  usually  listened  to  with  complacent 
admiration  for  its  mellifluous  melody,  but  too  seldom 


284  Richard  Wagner 

considered  in  respect  of  its  dramatic  significance. 
"  Lohengrin  "  is  musically  far  in  advance  of  "  Tann- 
hauser."  True,  there  is  not  in  this  opera  any  piece  of 
writing  so  puissant  in  its  revelation  of  a  human  heart 
as  the  narrative  of  the  returned  pilgrim,  but  the  score 
in  its  entirety  is  more  closely  knit,  more  coherent  in 
style,  more  certain  in  its  characterisations,  more 
dramatic  in  its  development  of  emotional  climaxes  and 
its  explication  of  the  scenes.  In  "  Lohengrin  "  we  find 
the  grasp  of  his  material  much  firmer  in  Wagner's 
hands.  The  organism  is  higher  ;  the  unity  of  word, 
action,  and  tone  nearer  to  that  for  which  the  author 
constantly  sought. 

"Tannhauser"  is  a  hybrid.  Old  forms  jostle  the 
new  ;  thin  melodic  strophes  in  conventional  song-pat- 
terns lower  the  potency  of  some  scenes  to  the  level  of 
Italian  opera.  But  in  "Lohengrin"  the  song  form 
disappears  forever  from  the  Wagnerian  scheme.  The 
music  is  the  utterance  of  speech  ;  the  melody,  the 
spontaneous  embodiment  of  feeling.  There  is  no 
longer  any  recitative.  There  is  only  musical  dialogue. 
And  the  leitmotiv,  temporarily  laid  aside  in  the  com- 
position of  "Tannhauser,"  returns  with  wider  and 
deeper  and  more  varied  meaning.  We  are  at  the  cul- 
mination of  the  transition  period  of  Wagner's  genius, 
standing  at  the  outer  gates  of  "Tristan"  and  "Die 
Meistersinger." 

Wagner  himself  recognised  the  nature  and  the  limits 
of  the  advance  made  in  this  opera.  He  declares  in  the 
"Communication"  that  he  was  here  seeking  to  free 
himself  from  the  tyranny  of  the  final  cadence  —  that 
which  tells  the  ear  of  the  completion  of  a  melodic  form 
—  and  to  make  the  music  the  outgrowth  of  the  speech. 


Lohengrin 


285 


But  he  saw  in  later  years  that  he  was  still  under  the 
domination  of  melodic  fashion  in  "  Lohengrin  " ;  and  it 
is  precisely  his  subservience  to  this  fashion,  with 
which  the  easy-going  public  from  long  use  has  become 
familiar,  that  makes  "Lohengrin"  the  favourite  of 
opera-goers  the  world  over.  We  find  the  most  potent 
evidences  of  the  domination  of  the  closing  cadence  in 
Elsa's  narrative,  in  the  duet  of  Ortrud  and  Telramund 
in  the  second  act,  and  in  the  passages  of  the  duet  in 
the  chamber  scene.  On  the  other  hand,  there  is  a  close 
approach  in  the  score  of  "  Lohengrin  "  to  the  endless 
melody  of  the  later  dramas,  and  we  are  not  surprised 
by  the  recollection  that  the  Nibelungen  trilogy  was  the 
next  work  to  which  Wagner  turned. 

The  prelude  to  "Lohengrin"  may  be  described  as 
an  instrumental  representation  of  the  vision  of  the 
Holy  Grail.  The  motive  on  which  it  is  built  is  that 
which  throughout  the  opera  typifies  the  sacredness  of 
Lohengrin  and  his  identity  as  a  messenger  of  the  GraiL 

THE  GRAIL. 
8va 


This  theme  is  heard  at  the  begininng  of  the  prelude 
in  its  first  form.  It  is  heard  again  when  Lohengrin 
prepares  to  bid  farewell  to  the  swan  which  is  to 
return  to  Monsalvat,  the  palace  of  the  Grail,  thus  an- 
nouncing the  idenity  of  the  knight  as  a  messenger  of 
the  Grail.  It  is  not  heard  again  till  the  third  act, 
except  for  a  passing  moment  in  Act   IL,  where  the 


286 


Richard  Wagner 


Herald's  delivery  of  Lohengrin's  message  to  the  nobles 
is  preceded  by  the  Grail  motive,  the  first  half  intoned 
by  the  trumpets  on  the  stage  and  the  second  half  by  the 
orchestra.  It  then  disappears  till  the  final  scene  of  the 
opera,  when  it  sounds  forth  as  the  warp  and  woof  of 
that  marvellously  lovely  piece  of  writing,  the  narrative 
of  Lohengrin's  origin.  Next  to  the  Grail  motive 
stands  that  which  is  indicative  of  the  knightly  nature 
of  Lohengrin.     This  motive  immediately  follows  the 


LOHEGRIN  THE  KNIGHT. 
Sva iLl 

m — ' — :^- 


loco. 


'p^^^ 


first  appearance  of  the  Grail  motive  in  the  first  act  and 
becomes  the  instrumental  background  to  Elsa's  "In 
lichter  Waffen  Scheine  ein  Ritter  nahte  da"  ("  I 
saw  in  splendour  shining  a  knight  of  glorious  mien  "). 
It  is  heard  again  when  Lohengrin  appears  in  the  dis- 
tance coming  down  the  Scheldt  in  answer  to  Elsa's 
prayer,  and  at  the  end  of  the  first  act,  when  the 
triumph  is  complete,  it  peals  forth  fortissimo.  It  an- 
nounces Lohengrin's  entrance  in  Act  II.  and  again  in 
the  final  scene  of  the  opera.  At  the  end  of  all  Wag- 
ner shov/s  us  that  the  knightly  character  of  Lohengrin 


Lohengrin 


287 


is  intimately  associated  witli  his  position  as  guardian 
of  Brabant,  for  the  kniglitliood  motive  is  transferred 
in  all  its  splendour  to  the  rescued  Gottfried,  while,  as 
Lohengrin  disappears  in  the  distance,  it  is  heard  for 
the  first  time  in  the  minor  mode.  Another  motive, 
which  is  a  companion  of  Lohengrin's,  is  the  swan 
motive.     This  is  heard  as  the  accompaniment  to  the 

THE  SWAN. 


closing  words  of  Lohengrin's  farewell  to  the  swan  in 
Act  I.;  again  in  Act  III.,  when  the  half-hysterical  Elsa 
fancies  she  sees  the  swan  coming  to  take  Lohengrin 
away,  and  finally  when  the  Knight  is  about  to  address 
the  swan  preparatory  to  his  departure  in  the  last 
scene.  A  part  of  the  melody  which  accompanies  the 
entrance  of  Elsa  in  the  first  act  is  also  evidently  de- 
signed to  act  as  a  leading  motive.  This  may  be  called 
the  motive  of  Elsa's  faith.     It  is  repeated  immediately 

ELSA'S  FAITH. 

Jim JJ(S2. 


after  the  entrance  of  the  maid,  when  the  King  asks 
her  if  she  will  be  judged  by  him,  and  the  stage  di- 
rection bids    her  make   a  gesture  expressive  of  her 


Richard  Wagner 


complete  trust.  In  the  last  scene,  when  Elsa  enters 
dejected  after  having  broken  her  vow,  the  King  asks 
her  the  cause  of  her  sadness,  and  she  tries  to  look  him 
in  the  face  but  cannot.  Then  we  hear  the  broken 
faith  motive: 

ELBA'S  FAITH  BROKEN. 


Two  themes  are  employed  to  signify  the  evil  elements 
of  the  drama.  The  first  of  these  is  the  prohibition 
motive : 

THE  PROHIBITION. 


£E 


Kie         sollst    Uu    micti      be     -     fra     -     gen. 


te 


^ 


EE 


Oboe  &  Clarionet. 

fee   1^^ 


ffe 


The  ban  of  secrecy  imposed  by  Lohengrin  becomes  a 
potent  weapon  for  evil  in  the  hands  of  Ortrud.  It  is 
heard  ominously  in  the  introductory  measures  of  the 
second  act,  and  with  portentous  meaning  when  Or 
trud  begins  to  unfold  her  plan  to  Frederic.  When 
Ortrud  in  the  scene  with  Elsa  says,  "May  he  never 
leave  thee  who  v/as  by  magic  hither  brought,"  the 


Lohengrin  289 

prohibition  motive  is  given  out  adagio  by  the  wind; 
and  at  the  end  of  act,  as  Ortrud  expresses  by  face 
and  gesture  her  triumph  over  Elsa  entering  the  cathe- 
dral, this  motive  is  pealed  forth  at  full  power  by  the 
trumpets  and  trombones.  It  recurs  in  most  mournful 
instrumental  colour  at  the  end  of  the  chamber  scene  in 
Act  111.,  when  Elsa  has  asked  the  fatal  question.  The 
other  theme  significant  of  evil  is  the  motive  of  Ortrud's 
influence: 

ORTRUD. 


:^a= 


i:g--T— * 

This  is  first  heard  in  the  introduction  to  Act  II.  It  re- 
appears when  Ortrud  begins  to  reveal  hei  ideas  to 
Frederic,  and  accompanies  each  of  her  suggestions  for 
the  overthrow  of  Lohengrin  and  destruction  of  Elsa. 
It  is  heard  again  in  the  accompaniment  to  the  short 
ensemble  which  succeeds  Lohengrin's  appeal  to  Elsa 
in  the  finale  of  Act  II.,  when  to  his  dismay  he  sees 
that  she  is  wavering.  Again  it  sounds  when  Frederic 
whispers  to  Elsa  in  the  same  scene,  and  when  the 
maid  declares  her  doubts  in  the  chamber  scene  it  is 
repeated  to  show  that  she  is  acting  under  the  influ- 
ence of  Ortrud.  This  is  a  very  close  approach  to  the 
fully  developed  employment  of  the  leitmotiv,  for  in 
the  later  dramas  we  find  these  themes  frequently  used 
to  connect  the  passing  action  with  the  influences 
which  have  led  to  it  or  to  associate  it  with  an  absent 
personality. 

A  less  important  motive,  but  one  whose  treatment 
foreshadows  Wagner's  later  musical  method,  is  that 
of  the  ordeal: 


290  Richard  Wagner 

THE  ORDEAL. 


r=r 


This  makes  its  appearance  in  Act  I.  after  the  nobles 
shout  "ZumGottesgericht!"  ("a  judgment  of  God!"), 
and  immediately  before  the  King  addresses  Telramund 
asking  him  if  he  will  do  battle.  In  the  major  mode  it 
is  sounded  by  the  trumpets  on  the  stage  as  the  sum- 
mons to  Elsa's  champion  to  appear,  and  its  fundamen- 
tal rhythm  becomes  that  of  the  music  to  which  the 
six  nobles  pace  off  the  measurement  of  the  ground. 
In  the  fight  itself  this  motive  is  worked  out  orches- 
trally  as  an  accompaniment  to  the  action.  It  belongs 
strictly  to  the  music  of  the  scene,  yet  it  is  treated 
thematically  and  developed  as  far  as  needed. 

These  are  all  the  leading  motives  of  "  Lohengrin." 
The  rest  of  the  music  is  freely  composed,  but 
the  attentive  hearer  will  note  that  while  ethereal 
string  harmonies  intone  the  Grail  motive,  Lohengrin's 
knighthood  is  announced  by  the  brass,  and  to 
the  wood  wind  choir  is  allotted  Elsa's  music.  For 
the  rest  the  lover  of  this  opera  must  seek  his  in- 
tellectual enjoyment  in  the  general  fidelity  of  the 
score  to  the  thought  of  the  text,  to  the  increasing 
freedom  from  the  shackles  of  formularies,  and  to  the 
flexible,  changeful,  constantly  significant  harmonic 
plan. 

The  enormous  variety  of  the  rhythmic  effects  is  ob- 
tained without  frequent  changes  of  time.     The  first 


Lohengrin  291 

act,  for  example,  is  all  in  common  time  up  to  the 
beginning  of  the  King's  prayer,  which  is  in  three- 
fourths  measure.  At  the  beginning  of  the  combat  the 
common  time  returns  and  is  continued  till  the  end  of 
the  act.  The  entire  second  act  is  in  common  time. 
In  the  third  act  two-fourths  time  is  used  for  the  "  Bridal 
Chorus"  and  then  the  composer  returns  to  common 
time  and  retains  it  to  the  end.  These  facts  are  alone 
sufficient  to  show  the  wide  gulf  which  separates  the 
Wagner  score  from  that  of  the  old-fashioned  Italian 
opera,  wherein  the  elementary  dance  rhythms  are  all 
used  with  as  much  variety  as  possible.  Wagner  at- 
tains an  infinitely  greater  variety  of  styles  and  expres- 
sion with  only  two  interruptions  of  his  original  time 
signature. 

Yet  the  one  thing  which  Wagner  felt  most  keenly 
in  the  composition  of  this  opera  was  his  subserviency 
to  rhythm — not  musical,  but  poetical.  He  admits 
that  he  had  not  yet  freed  himself  from  old  melodic 
ideas  and  that  the  dominance  of  the  cadence  was  still 
felt  in  his  work,  but  his  real  difficulty  was  the  inflexi- 
bility of  verse  written  in  modern  metre,  which  makes 
such  rigorous  demands  for  imitation  in  the  form  of  the 
musical  setting.  He  was  in  later  works  to  find  the 
solution  of  that  problem  and  enter  the  kingdom  of 
perfect  freedom  from  textual  rule.  The  music  of 
"  Lohengrin,"  then,  must  be  regarded  as  standing 
midway  between  the  style  of  "  Der  Fliegende  Hol- 
ander "  and  that  of  "Die  Meistersinger."  Its  ex- 
traordinary popularity  is  due  to  the  external  and 
sensuous  charms  of  its  melody,  which  make  their 
appeal  to  the  aural  palate  of  those  incapable  of 
comprehending  a  dramatic  scheme  such  as  Wagner's. 


292  Richard  Wagner 

This  outward  attractiveness  of  the  music  Wagner 
himself  would  have  been  the  first  to  blame,  and 
he  always  felt  that  his  own  beautiful  conception 
of  the  character  of  Lohengrin  was  not  revealed  to 
the  public. 


TRISTAN   UND  ISOLDE 

Action  in  Three  Acts. 

First  performed  at  the  Royal  Court  Theatre,  Munich, 
June  lo,  1865, 

Original  Cast. 
Ludwig  Schnorr  von  Carolsfeld. 


Mitterwurzer. 

Heinrich. 

Zottmayer. 

Mme.  Schnorr  von  Carolsfeld. 

.    Mile.  Deinet. 


Tristan 

Kurvenal 

Melot 

Marke 

Isolde 

Brangane 

Weimar^  1874;  Berlin,    1876;  Konigsberg,  Leipsic, 
1881;  Hamburg,  1882;  London,  June  20,  1882. 

First   performed   in    America   at  the    Metropolitan 
Opera  House,  New  York,  on  December  i,  li 

Cast. 


Tristan 

Albert  Niemann 

Kurvenal 

.    Adolph  Robinson 

Melot 

Rudolph  von  Milde 

Marke 

,    Emil  Fischer 

Isolde 

Lilli  Lehmann 

Brangane 

Marianne  Brandt 

Ein  Hirt 

.  Otto  Kemlitz 

Steuermann 

Emil  Saenger 

Seemann      .         .         .         . 

Max  Alvary 

Conductor,  Anton  Seidl. 


293 


TRISTAN   UND   ISOLDE 
I. — Sources  of  the  Story 

From  the  dramatic  and  musical  style  of  "Lohen- 
grin "  to  that  of  "  Tristan  und  Isolde  "  is  a  far  cry,  and 
the  reader  must  brace  his  intellectual  forces  to  assault 
a  new  world.  It  would  be  easier  for  some  reasons  to 
take  up  the  consideration  of  this  work  after  that  of 
the  "  Meistersinger  "  and  "  Der  Ring,"  but  such  a  pro- 
ceeding would  lead  to  a  confusion  of  historical  facts 
in  the  mind  of  the  reader,  and  therefore  we  shall  take 
it  up  in  the  order  of  its  production.  We  must  bear 
in  mind  that  before  writing  the  score  of  this  work 
Wagner  wrote  those  of  "Das  Rheingold  "  and  "Die 
Walkure,"  and  that  therefore  he  had  entered  into 
his  fully  developed  style.  Further  than  that  we  shall 
see  that  he  went  beyond  his  own  conceptions  of 
his  theories,  and  that  in  this  work  he  gave  us  the 
fullest,  freest,  and  most  potent  demonstration  of  the 
vitality  and  justice  of  his  methods  and  his  style. 

In  an  undated  letter  to  Liszt,  written  in  the  latter 
part  of  1854,  Wagner  says:  "I  have  in  my  head 
'Tristan  und  Isolde,'  the  simplest  but  most  full- 
blooded  musical  conception:  with  the  'black  flag' 
which  floats  at  the  end  of  it  I  shall  cover  myself  to 
die."  But  in  the  meantime,  as  we  have  seen,  he  was 
working  on   the  first   parts   of  the    "Ring"   series. 

294 


Tristan  und  Isolde  295 

When  he  had  about  half  written  "Siegfried"  there 
came  upon  him  a  period  of  depression.  He  felt  that 
he  was  writing  works  which  he  would  not  live  to  see 
produced.  He  hungered  for  a  closer,  an  active  con- 
nection with  the  stage,  and  he  needed  money,  and  so 
he  regretfully  laid  aside  the  "Ring"  scores  and  set  to 
work  on  the  poem  of  "Tristan  und  Isolde."  This 
was  written  at  Zurich  in  1857.  The  music  was  begun 
in  the  same  year,  and  the  score  of  the  first  act  was 
finished  at  Zurich  on  December  31st.  The  second  act 
was  finished  at  Venice  in  March,  1859,  and  the  third 
at  Lucerne  in  August  of  the  same  year. 

Many  persons  labour  under  the  delusion  that  "Tris- 
tan und  Isolde  "  is  a  new  fancy  of  Wagner's  ;  they  do 
not  know  that  the  tale  is  one  of  the  famous  old  legends 
of  the  Arthurian  cycle  and  that  it  ranks  as  one  of  the 
great  epics  of  mediaeval  Europe.  First  of  all,  however, 
this  story  belonged  to  the  great  English  cycle  of 
legends,  which  have  supplied  material  to  so  many 
poets  down  to  Tennyson  and  Swinburne.  The  latter 
wrote  a  version  of  this  very  tale  under  the  title  of 
"Tristram  of  Lyonnesse, "  which  is  only  a  modern 
adaptation  of  the  earliest  known  title,  "Tristam  de 
Leonois,"  a  poem  dating  from  1 190. 

The  story  is  of  Celtic  origin,  yet  we  find  that  it  first 
took  definite  poetic  shape  in  France.  The  Arthurian 
cycle  consists  of  the  "Romance  of  the  Holy  Grail," 
"Merlin,"  "Launcelot,"  "The  Quest  of  the  Saint 
Graal,"  and  "  The  Mort  Artus."  From  the  last  was 
drawn  the  beautiful  "Morte  d'Arthur"  of  Sir  Thomas 
Mallory,  a  story  of  which  about  one-third  is  devoted 
to  the  life  and  adventures  of  Tristram,  not  properly 
told  in  this  version.     How   was  it  that  the  French 


296  Richard  Wagner 

romantic  poets  were  engaged  in  celebrating  the  doings 
of  Englisii  lieroes  ?  In  tiie  lieart  of  the  Midi  the  fore- 
runners of  the  Troubadours  sang  the  deeds  of  Arthur 
and  Launcelot  and  Merlin,  just  as  Tennyson  did  in  the 
latter  half  of  the  nineteenth  century.  As  far  as  we 
can  ascertain  at  this  time,  the  exploits  of  Arthur,  which 
had  been  narrated  in  scattered  song  and  story  for  many 
a  long  year  through  all  the  vales  of  England,  were 
compiled  by  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth.  He  died  in  1 1 54, 
the  year  in  which  Henry  II.  ascended  the  throne  of 
England.  Henry  was  of  the  house  of  Anjou,  and 
united  the  crowns  of  England  and  Normandy  under  his 
sceptre.  At  about  the  same  period,  according  to  Pro- 
fessor Morley,  Walter  Map,  an  Archdeacon  of  Oxford 
(1154-89),  is  believed  to  have  introduced  the  Holy 
Grail  into  the  romances  which  existed  before  his  time. 
The  conditions  were  now  precisely  right  for  the  in- 
troduction of  the  Arthurian  legends  and  the  Grail  into 
the  romantic  literature  of  France.  The  Norman  Court 
took  great  delight  in  the  English  tales.  The  French 
poets  were  only  too  glad  to  find  new  material  which 
was  sure  of  favour  in  high  places.  And  their  own 
blood  was  not  averse  to  the  nature  of  the  poetry.  The 
French  of  the  Middle  Ages  were  a  wonderfully  cosmo- 
politan people.  Near  Tours,  far  to  the  north  of  the 
sunny  land  of  the  Troubadour,  Charles  Martel  crushed 
and  scattered  the  army  of  the  Prophet,  and  for  cent- 
uries after  that  the  Saracen  trod  the  valleys  of  the  Midi. 
Long  before  that  the  Greeks  had  sent  settlers  into  the 
region,  and  the  old  nature-loving  Hellenic  spirit  found 
its  expression  and  its  means  of  preservation  in  the  folk 
songs  and  dances  of  the  people.  But  the  inhabitants 
of    the    Midi    were,    nevertheless,    Celts.       Matthew 


Tristan  und  Isolde  297 

Arnold  says  :  "Gaul  was  Latinised  in  language,  man- 
ners, and  laws,  and  yet  her  people  remained  essentially 
Celtic,"  And  so  we  need  not  be  astonished  at  finding 
the  Celtic  Arthurian  legends  taking  root  in  the  literature 
of  mediaeval  France.  Robert  de  Borron,  a  Trouvere, 
born  near  Meaux,  wrote  about  1 170  or  1 180  the  Pro- 
vencal version  of  the  Grail  legend.  Chretien  de  Troyes, 
another  of  the  French  romanticists,  wrote  a  version  of 
the  Grail  legend  about  the  same  time  as  Borron. 

Of  the  oldest  French  versions  of  the  Tristram  tale, 
two  are  known.  M.  Gaston  Paris  and  Dr.  Golther 
have  put  forth  in  their  books  on  the  Tristram  legend 
studies  of  what  is  called  the  minstrel  version  of  the 
story.  The  first  was  made  by  Beroul  in  England  out 
of  the  scattered  traditions  relating  to  Tristan.  It  dates 
from  1 1 50  and  only  a  fragment  of  it  remains.  There 
was  also  a  very  early  German  version  by  Eilhart  von 
Oberge,  and  from  this  indirectly  originated  the  unsat- 
isfactory version  given  by  Mallory.  The  other  old 
French  one  was  that  of  Thomas  of  Brittany,  an  Anglo- 
Norman.  This  poem  was  the  previously  mentioned 
"Tristam  de  Leonois,"  and  from  it,  about  12 10,  Gott- 
fried of  Strassburg,  a  German,  drew  the  great 
mediaeval  Teutonic  form  of  the  tale,  the  direct  source 
of  Wagner's  work. 

The  story  as  told  by  Gottfried  is  briefly  as  follows  : 
Morold,  an  Irish  warrior,  brother  of  Ireland's  Queen, 
holds  Cornwall  in  fear,  and  demands  a  tribute  to  his 
King  and  master.  Tristan,  nephew  of  King  Mark  of 
Cornwall,  challenges  him  to  mortal  combat.  Morold 
wounds  Tristan,  and  declares  that,  as  his  sword  was 
poisoned,  only  his  sister,  Queen  Isolt  of  Ireland,  can 
heal  the  wound.     Tristan  smites  Morold's  head  off, 


298  Richard  Wagner 

but  a  piece  of  the  sword  remains  in  the  skull.  Tristan's 
wound  will  not  heal,  so  in  company  with  his  servitor 
Kurvenal  and  several  other  attendants  he  sails  for  Ire- 
land to  seek  aid  of  Queen  Isolt.  Morold's  body  and 
head  are  taken  back  to  Ireland.  Tristan  appears  before 
the  Queen  disguised  as  a  harper,  calling  himself  Tan- 
tris.  The  Queen,  pleased  with  his  music,  agrees  to  heal 
him  if  he  will  teach  music  to  her  daughter,  also  named 
Isolt.  He  consents,  is  healed,  and  returns  to  Corn- 
wall. There  he  sings  the  praises  of  the  Queen's 
daughter,  the  younger  Isolt,  and  offers  to  return  to 
Ireland  and  ask  for  her  hand  for  his  uncle.  King  Mark. 
He  goes,  and,  on  his  arrival,  finding  the  land  devastated 
by  a  dragon,  slays  the  monster  and  cuts  out  its  tongue. 
Being  overcome  by  the  creature's  foul  breath,  he  sinks 
unconscious,  and  the  Queen's  steward,  who  has  heard 
the  sound  of  the  conflict,  comes  and  cuts  off  the 
dragon's  head  to  show  as  evidence  that  he  slew  the 
beast.  The  steward  claims  the  hand  of  the  Princess, 
which  has  been  promised  to  the  slayer  of  the  dragon, 
but  the  Queen  Mother  by  her  magic  discovers  that 
another  did  the  deed,  and  going  forth  at  dawn  finds 
the  unconscious  Tristan. 

It  is  now  decided  that  the  question  between  Tristan 
and  the  steward  shall  be  settled  by  combat,  and  the 
Princess  orders  Tristan's  armour  to  be  made  ready.  In 
looking  at  the  sword  she  discovers  the  nick  in  the 
blade,  and  finds  that  the  splinter  from  Morold's  head, 
which  has  been  preserved,  fits  it.  It  also  dawns  upon 
her  that  ' '  Tantris  "is  "  Tristan  "  reversed.  She  would 
slay  Tristan,  but  the  Queen  desires  to  know  what 
matter  of  great  import  brought  him  again  to  Ireland. 
He  makes  known  his  mission,  and  as  the  Queen  pro- 


Tristan  und  Isolde  299 

fesses  herself  ready  to  forgive  Tristan  for  killing 
Morold,  her  brother,  the  compact  is  made.  Princess 
Isolt  goes  with  Tristan.  As  they  depart  for  Corn- 
wall, the  Queen  confides  to  Brangane,  the  Princess's 
kinswoman  and  companion,  a  love  potion,  to  be 
given  to  King  Mark  and  the  Princess  on  the  marriage 
night  that  they  may  ever  afterward  love  each  other. 
The  Princess  is  loath  to  leave  her  own  people,  and 
she  hates  Tristan  for  having  slain  her  Uncle  Morold. 

On  the  way  to  Cornwall  a  serving-maid,  who  is 
asked  for  a  drink  for  Tristan  and  Isolt,  ignorantly 
gives  them  the  love  potion,  and  they  love  one  another. 
The  poem  narrates  many  incidents  in  the  course  of 
deceit  pursued  by  the  lovers,  but  they  need  not  be  re- 
capitulated here.  The  King's  steward,  Majordo,  aided 
by  the  dwarf,  Melot,  watches  the  lovers  and  informs 
the  King  of  their  infidelity.  But  with  the  help  of 
Brangaene's  cunning,  they  several  times  avoid  detec- 
tion. The  King  even  banishes  them  from  Court,  but, 
finding  them  asleep  in  a  forest  retreat  with  a  naked 
sword  between  them,  takes  them  back,  though  he 
orders  them  to  remain  apart.  Finally  he  surprises 
them  in  the  garden,  and  then  Tristan  is  forced  to  flee 
from  Cornwall.  He  finds  a  refuge  in  Arundel,  the 
land  of  Duke  Jovelin,  whose  daughter,  Isolt  of  the 
White  Hand,  falls  in  love  with  him.  As  he  is  always 
singing  of  his  lost  Isolt,  she  thinks  that  he  loves  her. 
He,  hearing  nothing  from  the  old  Isolt,  deems  himself 
forgotten,  and  concludes  that  it  would  be  as  well  to 
marry  Isolt  of  the  White  Hand. 

Gottfried's  poem  ends  here.  In  the  other  versions, 
however,  the  tale  is  completed.  Tristan  does  marry 
the  second  Isolt.     He  receives  a  poisoned  wound  while 


300  Richard  Wagner 

aiding  a  friend  to  meet  clandestinely  another  man's 
wife.  Knowing  that  none  save  his  first  Isolt  can  heal 
the  wound,  he  sends  Kurvenal  to  bring  her,  telling 
him  that  if  he  succeeds  in  getting  her  he  must  hoist  a 
white  sail  when  entering  port  on  his  return,  but  if  he 
fails  he  is  to  hoist  a  black  one.  Isolt  of  the  White 
Hand  hears  this,  and  when  the  ship  is  sighted  bearing 
a  white  sail,  she  tells  her  husband  that  it  is  black, 
whereupon  he  turns  his  face  to  the  wall  and  dies. 
Tristan's  Isolt  arrives  to  find  him  dead.  She  lays  her- 
self on  the  bier  beside  him  and  expires.  King  Mark, 
having  learned  the  story  of  the  love  potion,  has  the 
two  buried  in  the  same  chapel,  on  opposite  sides.  A 
rose  tree  grows  from  Tristan's  tomb  and  a  vine  from 
isolt's,  and  the  branches  reach  across  the  chapel  and 
intertwine. 

11. — Wagner's  Dramatic  Poem 

The  falsehood  of  the  second  Isolt  has  greatly  an- 
noyed some  of  the  modern  writers.  Bayard  Taylor 
simply  declined  to  believe  that  such  a  thing  happened. 
Matthew  Arnold  made  the  second  Isolt  faithful  to  her 
love.  She  nursed  her  dying  husband  tenderly  even 
while  waiting  for  the  first  Isolt  to  arrive.  But  Wagner 
wisely  ignored  this  part  of  the  legend.  We  hear  no- 
thing of  any  second  Isolt.  As  is  invariably  the  case,  his 
treatment  of  the  story  draws  together  all  the  beauties 
of  the  original  material  and  moulds  them  into  a  com- 
pact, consistent  whole,  instinct  with  dramatic  force 
and  poetic  beauty.  In  attempting  to  set  forth  the 
Wagnerian  arrangement  of  the  materials,  I  find  it  diffi- 
cult to  proceed  coolly  and  systematically.  There  is  a 
witchery  in  this  marvellous  drama  of  fatal  love  that 


Tristan  und  Isolde  301 

masters  my  mind.  If  the  reader  finds  me  wanting  in 
the  calm  of  judicial  equipoise,  let  him  forgive  me,  for  I 
am  dealing  with  that  which  lies  next  to  my  heart.  As 
Louis  Ehlert  says  : 

"When  in  the  second  act  Isolde  is  awaiting  her 
lover,  when  the  orchestra  throbs  with  a  thousand 
pulses  and  every  nerve  becomes  a  sounding  tone,  I  am 
no  longer  the  man  I  am  through  the  rest  of  the  year, 
nor  am  I  artistically  and  morally  a  responsible  being  : 
I  am  a  Wagnerian." 

For  the  perfect  understanding  of  the  story  the  first 
act  of  the  drama  is  the  most  important.  It  is  also  that 
which  the  fewest  persons  closely  study.  Edward 
Schure,  in  "  Le  Drame  Musicale,"  says  : 

"The  fundamental  idea  of  the  legend  is  that  of  the  love-philtre, 
fatal,  irresistible,  overpowering  and  uniting  two  human  beings  ;  of  love 
vanquishing  everything,  honour,  family,  society,  life  and  death,  but 
which  is  itself  ennobled  by  its  very  grandeur  and  fidelity.  For  it  bears 
within  itself  its  own  punishment  as  well  as  its  justification,  its  religion 
and  its  world,  its  hell  and  its  heaven,  supreme  sorrow  and  supreme 
consolation." 

While  this  may  be  a  correct  view  of  the  old  legend, 
it  is  not  true  of  Wagner's  drama.  In  the  latter  the 
philtre  performs  the  office  of  Fate  in  the  ancient  Greek 
tragedy.  In  the  plays  of  Sophocles  and  ^schylus 
mortals  fulfil  their  manifest  destinies,  but  Fate  is  the 
secret  agency  which  hurries  them  forward  to  their 
ends.  So,  in  this  drama  of  Wagner's,  Tristan  and 
Isolde  are  the  victims  of  a  fatal  love  before  the  action 
begins,  and  the  philtre  is  only  the  instrument  through 
which  all  restraints  are  removed  and  the  unhappy  pair 
hurled  into  the  vortex  of  their  own  passion,  helpless 
victims  of  cruel  Destiny. 


302  Richard  Wagner 

Upon  the  deck  of  the  ship  bound  for  Cornwall 
Isolde  lies  silent  on  her  couch.  From  aloft  floats 
down  the  song  of  a  sailor,  crooning  of  his  absent  Irish 
love.  Isolde,  starting  up,  demands  to  know  where 
she  is.  Before  night,  Brangane  tells  her,  the  ship 
will  reach  Cornwall.  "Nevermore!  To-night  nor 
to-morrow,"  exclaims  Isolde,  a  dread  purpose  in  her 
mind.  And  then  she  bursts  into  rage,  she  who  has 
hitherto  been  silent  and  even  has  refused  food.  Bran- 
gane begs  her  to  free  her  mind.  "Air!"  cries 
Isolde.  The  curtain  is  thrown  back,  showing  the  stern 
of  the  ship  and  Tristan  at  the  helm.  Isolde  gazes  at 
him  and  murmurs  : 

"  To  me  given  ; 
From  me  riven  ; 
Leal  and  trusted, 
True  and  trait — 
Death-devoted  head  ! 
Death-devoted  heart !  " 

In  these  lines  we  hear  a  revelation  of  Isolde's  heart. 
Tristan  was  hers;  he  is  not.  Both  must  die.  She 
sends  Brangane  to  summon  him  to  her  presence.  He 
offers  excuses.  Why  ?  Later  he  tells  Isolde,  when 
she  asks  him  why  he  has  avoided  her  during  the  voy- 
age, that  it  was  not  meet  that  he  who  escorted  a  bride 
across  seas  should  go  near  her.  She  derides  the  ex- 
cuse, knowing  its  shallowness.  The  man  was  afraid 
of  himself.  He  had  once  wooed  this  woman  and 
now  in  her  presence  he  felt  the  old  fascination.  He 
dared  not  trust  his  heart. 

Brangane's  persistence  arouses  the  squire  Kurvenal, 
who  rebuffs  her  by  singing  a  popular  song  about 
Tristan's  victory  over  Morold.     Then  Isolde  in  her 


Tristan  und  Isolde  303 

rage  tells  the  whole  story  to  Brangiine.  She  tells  how 
the  wounded  Tristan,  calling  himself  "  Tantris,"  came 
to  Ireland  that  she  might  nurse  him  when  he  was 
suffering  from  a  poisoned  wound.  She  tells  how  she 
found  the  nick  in  his  sword  and  fitted  to  it  the 
splinter,  taken  from  the  head  of  Morold,  not  her 
uncle,  as  in  the  old  poem,  but  her  lover  —  making 
her  wrong  a  much  deeper  one.  She  tells  how  she 
stood  ready  to  slay  him  with  that  sword,  but  he  fixed 
his  melancholy  gaze  upon  her.  "Not  on  the  sword, 
not  on  my  arm;  full  to  my  eyes  went  his  look.  His 
misery  pleaded  straight  to  my  heart."  This  look  was 
her  undoing,  and  Wagner  made  its  musical  symbol 
one  of  the  salient  themes  of  his  score.  Tristan  swore 
truth  and  thanks  eternal,  yet  no  sooner  had  he  re- 
turned to  Cornwall  than  he  suggested  the  expedition 
to  Ireland  to  get  Isolde  as  a  bride  for  King  Mark,  his 
uncle.  It  is  this  for  which  Isolde  craves  vengeance. 
Tristan,  having  lightly  won  her  love,  would  present  her 
as  a  gift  to  another.  She  curses  him  in  her  rage,  and 
cries,  "Vengeance!  Death!  Death  to  the  two!" 
Brangane  vainly  strives  to  soothe  her.  Staring  va- 
cantly into  space  she  murmurs:  "Unloved  by  the 
noblest  of  men,  must  I  stand  near  and  see  him  ?  How 
can  I  endure  the  anguish.?"  That  is  the  future  she 
dare  not,  will  not  face. 

What  a  vast  difference  already  between  the  original 
legend  and  this  wonderful  dramatisation  of  it  by 
Richard  Wagner!  Brangane  says  it  is  foolish  for 
Isolde  to  fancy  that  she  can  remain  unloved.  Does 
she  forget  her  mother's  magic  art,  which  has  provided 
her  with  potions  of  strange  power?  No,  Isolde  has 
not  forgotten.     She  asks  for  the  casket,  and  when 


304  Richard  Wagner 

Brangane  shows  her  the  love  potion  she  brushes  it 
aside  and  declares  that  the  drink  of  death  is  for  her. 
Reader,  keep  this  death  thought  always  in  mind.  It 
is  the  basic  underthought  of  the  entire  drama.  In  .the^ 
first  act  it  appears  first  in  the  mind  of  Isolde.  She  will 
renounce  life,  for  there  is  nothing  in  it  for  her  but 
misery.  In  the  second  act  both  she  and  Tristan  feed 
upon  the  dream  of  death  ;  and  in  the  third  act  death 
unites  them. 

At  last  Tristan  and  Isolde  are  face  to  face.  She 
demands  revenge  for  Morold.  Tristan  offers  his 
sword  and  bids  her  slay  him.  She  refuses  on  the 
ground  that  she  cannot  go  before  Mark  as  the  slayer 
of  his  favourite  knight.  She  invites  Tristan  to  drink 
atonement  with  her.  He  understands,  and  is  ready 
with  her  to  seek  oblivion.  Brangane,  bidden  to  bring 
the  drink  of  death,  hastily  substitutes  for  it  the  love 
potion.  She  will  do  anything  rather  than  slay  her 
mistress;  she  condemns  her  to  live  and  suffer.  The 
words  of  Tristan  as  he  stands  with  the  cup  in  hand 
ready  to  drink  show  that  he  comprehends  the  situa- 
tion. He  has  discovered  that  Isolde  loves  him;  he 
knows  that  he  loves  her.  He  prefers  death  to  a  life 
of  renunciation  or  dishonour.  He  drinks.  She  seizes 
the  cup  and  shares  the  draught.  It  was  not  the  drink 
of  death.  It  was  for  them  the  drink  of  hell.  Hurled 
now  by  the  unrestrained  passion  within  them  into 
one  another's  arms,  the  man  wonders  what  dream  of 
honour  it  was  that  troubled  him  but  a  moment  ago, 
and  the  woman  marvels  that  she  trembled  at  the 
thought  of  shame. 

Tristan. — "  Was  triiumte  mir, 

von  Tristan's  Ehre?" 


Tristan  und  Isolde  305 

Isolde. — "  Was  traumte  mir 

von  Isolde's  Schmach  ?  " 

"What  dreamed  I  of  Tristan's  honour?"  "What 
dreamed  I  of  Isolde's  shame?"  I  have  purposely 
dwelt  at  length  on  the  incidents  and  dialogue  of  this 
wonderful  first  act,  because  they  furnish  the  key  to 
the  entire  drama,  and  because  so  many  persons,  even 
professed  lovers  of  Wagner,  misconstrue  the  meaning 
of  the  action.  The  ill-fated  pair  are  lovers  before  the 
drama  begins,  but  both  are  labouring  under  a  misun- 
derstanding. She  thinks  that  he  does  not  love  her 
because  he  has  come  to  carry  her  home  as  a  bride  for 
his  uncle.  He  thinks  that  she  is  athirst  for  vengeance 
for  the  death  of  Morold.  She  desires  to  die  rather 
than  face  her  future.  He  is  ready  to  die  when  he 
divines  the  true  cause  of  her  rage.  Better  oblivion 
than  a  life  of  misery.  Brangane's  unwillingness  to 
be  a  party  to  the  suicide  of  her  mistress  is  the  motive 
for  the  administration  of  the  potion,  which  simply 
bursts  the  bonds  of  restraint  and  shows  the  two 
hearts  to  one  another  free  of  all  disguise. 

The  rest  is  simple.  In  the  second  act  Isolde  awaits 
her  lover  in  the  garden.  Brangahe  warns  her  of 
Melot,  but  she  refuses  to  accept  the  warning.  Is  not 
Melot  Tristan's  friend?  Put  out  the  torch!  That  is 
the  signal.  The  burning  woman  cannot  put  out  the 
flame  of  her  own  passion,  but  she  can  and  does  turn 
down  the  torch.  What  a  portentous  signal!  The 
turning  down  of  the  spear  and  the  torch  from  time  im- 
memorial have  meant  that  death  was  present.  And 
so  Wagner  turns  down  this  torch  with  the  awful 
music  of  the  death  motive.  Tristan  rushes  to  her 
arms.    They  sing  to  one  another  in  ecstatic  accents  and 


3o6  Richard  Wagner 

in  "wrought  riddles  of  the  night  and  day."  The 
torch  was  the  day;  it  kept  them  asunder.  Its  extinc- 
tion brought  night,  the  only  time  when  they  may  be 
together.  And  so  in  ever-ascending  polyphonic  ut- 
terances of  metaphor,  they  arrive  at  last  at  a  naked 
truth.  For  them  the  day  is  all  separation  and  lies. 
Only  night  eternal,  the  night  of  death,  can  make  them 
free.     Isolde  sings: 

"  Dem  Licht  des  Tages 

wollt'  ich  entfliehn, 

dorthin  in  die  Nacht 

dich  mit  mir  ziehn, 

wo  der  Tauschung  ende 

mein  Herz  mir  verhiess, 

wo  des  Trug's  geahnter 

Wahn  zerinne  : 

dort  dir  zu  trinken 

ew'ge  Minna, 
mit  mir — dich  im  Verein 
wollt'  ich  dem  Tode  weih'n." 

Mr.  John  P.  Jackson  makes  this  read  in   English 
thus  : 

"  Day  would  I  flee. 

Away  to  the  Night 

Take  me  with  thee 

To  end  the  deception 

For  me  and  for  thee  ! 
Where  end  should  all  lies 

That  our  hearts  could  sever, 
Where  together  we  'd  drink 

Of  rapture  forever — 
And  in  love  united  there 
Death  all-everlasting  share  !  " 

Tristan  responds  that  he  drank  eagerly  what  he 
thought  was  the  draught  of  death.     Isolde  complains 


Tristan  und  Isolde  307 

that  the  draught  was  deceitful,  for  instead  of  sweeping 
them  both  into  night,  it  left  them  in  the  cold  glare  of 
day,  where  was  only  separation  for  them.  Tristan 
answers  that  with  honour  and  fame  both  destroyed  in 
the  glare  of  day,  their  hearts  can  have  but  one  vast 
yearning,  the  yearning  for  night.  Then  he  leads  her 
to  the  embowered  seat,  and  there  they  sing  together 
that  marvellous  duet  beginning  : 

"  O  sink'  hernieder 
Nacht  der  Liebe, 
gieb  Veigessen 
dass  ich  lebe." 

"O  sink  around  us,  night  of  love  ;  grant  forgetful- 
ness  that  I  live."  From  the  tower  floats  down  the 
warning  of  Brangane.  The  lovers  heed  it  not. 
Wrapped  in  each  other's  arms,  they  prate  of  odious 
day  and  love-giving  night,  the  night  of  eternity. 
Then  comes  the  awakening.  Mark,  led  by  Melot, 
surprises  them.  Tristan  murmurs  :  "  Der  ode  Tag 
zum  letzten  Mai  "  ("The  hated  day  for  the  last  time  "). 
A  moment  later  he  raves  at  Mark  and  his  courtiers  as 
"Daylight's  phantoms,  morning's  dreams."  When 
the  King  has  finished  his  long  and  pathetic  address, 
Tristan  turns  to  Isolde  and  asks  her  whether  she  is 
willing  to  follow  him  to  the  land  where  the  sun  never 
shines,  the  wondrous  abode  of  night.  Well  she 
knows  his  meaning,  and  as  he  hesitated  not  on  the 
ship,  so  she  hesitates  not  now.  Melot's  sword  is 
ready,  and  Tristan  hurls  himself  upon  it.  The  wound 
becomes  a  consecration,  a  deed  of  expiation  and  re- 
lease. It  takes  the  solemnity  of  the  loftiest  tragedy, 
leaving,    a    comet-flight    below    its    elevation,    the 


3o8  Richard  Wagner 

melodramatic  wound  of  the  legend  whence  Wagner 
drew  his  materials. 

This  is  the  wound  that  will  not  heal  without  the  aid 
of  Isolde's  art.  There  is  no  jarring  note  in  the  Wag- 
nerian version,  no  libertine  Tristan  aiding  another  in 
a  rude  liaison,  no  Isolde  of  the  White  Hand.  There 
is  only  the  one  master  passion.  There  is  only  one 
tragedy.  In  th£ ^hj rd_act--wB  fl n d  the  wounded,  wast- 
ing, visionary  man  lying  under  a  linden  tree  in  the 
courtyard  of  his  own  castle  at  Kareol  in  Brittany, 
whither  the  faithful  Kurvenal  has  borne  him.  A  shep- 
herd draws  a  melancholy  wail  from  his  pipe,  and,  in 
answer  to  Kurvenal's  anxious  question  sighs,  "Lone 
and  bare  is  the  sea."  For  these  two  are  watching  for 
the  ship  which  shall  bear  the  healer,  Isolde,  to  the 
side  of  the  stricken  man.  Kurvenal  whispers  words 
of  encouragement  to  his  lord,  but  Tristan  shakes  his 
head.  He  has  awakened  once  more  to  the  glare  of 
sunlit  noon,  and  once  more  the  old  fantasies  of  day 
and  night  rush  through  his  brain. 

When  will  the  blazingof  the  torch  cease  to  keep  him 
sundered  from  Isolde  ?  When  shall  it  be  night  for  these 
two  ?  Kurvenal  reveals  that  he  has  sent  a  ship  to 
bring  Isolde.  The  thought  is  new  strength  to  Tristan. 
He  bursts  into  a  delirium  of  joy.  He  sees  the  ship, 
the  flag  waving  at  the  mast.  "Kurvenal,  siehst  du 
es  nicht  ?  "  ("  Kurvenal,  seest  thou  it  not  ?  ")  Kurve- 
nal sees  no  sail  upon  the  sea.  Again  the  weary  man 
sinks  back  upon  his  rude  couch.  He  relives  the 
story  of  his  love.  He  raves  again  as  he  curses  the 
magic  draught,  which  was  not  the  drink  of  death. 
He  faints,  and  for  the  moment  Kurvenal  thinks  him 
dead.     But  no,  he  revives.     He  asks  again  if  the  ship 


Tristan  und  Isolde  309 

is  in  sight.  Kurvenal  says  to-day  it  must  surely  come. 
"And  on  it  Isolde!"  cries  Tristan.  Once  more  the 
waning  spirit  mounts  a  mighty  billow  of  emotion. 
"  Isolde,  how  holy  and  fair  art  thou  !  Kurvenal,  man, 
art  thou  blind  ?  Dost  thou  not  see  what  I  see  ?  The 
ship  !    The  ship  !    Isolde's  ship  !    Seest  thou  it  not  ?  " 

A  new  tune  peals  from  the  shepherd's  pipe.  The 
ship  is  sighted  !  The  flag  of  good  tidings  streams 
from  the  mast,  the  flag  which  means  that  Isolde  is  on 
board.  Fly  thou,  Kurvenal,  to  the  strand  to  help  her. 
To-day  shall  the  lovers  be  united.  Frenzy  for  the  last 
time  seizes  Tristan.  Once,  wounded  and  bleeding, 
well-nigh  slain  by  Morold,  Isolde  found  him  and 
nursed  him  back  to  life.  Again  shall  she  find  him  so. 
Off,  then,  foolish  bandages.  Let  the  red  blood  flow 
merrily.  Isolde  comes  !  He  hears  her  calling. 
What  is  this?  "Do  1  hear  the  light?  The  torch  ! 
The  signal  !  It  is  extinguished  !  To  her  !  To  her  ! " 

And  so  the  hero  sinks  dying  in  her  arms,  and  for 
him  at  last  the  longed-for  night  of  total  oblivion  has 
come.  Isolde  prostrates  herself  upon  his  body.  A 
second  ship  is  sighted,  bearing  Mark.  Kurvenal,  mis- 
understanding the  purpose  of  the  King,  resists  the 
entrance  of  his  guard  and  is  slain,  after  himself  giving 
a  fatal  wound  to  the  false  Melot.  Mark  has  learned 
the  secret  of  the  potion.  He  recognises  the  truth  that 
the  unhappy  pair  have  been  the  victims  of  Fate,  and 
he  has  come  to  unite  them.  Alas,  too  late  !  The 
mightiest  of  monarchs,  Death,  has  come  before  him. 
Isolde,  her  soul  spreadings  its  wings  for  flight,  sings 
out  her  apostrophe  to  her  dead  hero,  a  marvellous 
paean  of  praise,  the  echo  of  the  duet  of  love,  and 
sinks   lifeless    on    his    insensate    form.      Night    and 


3IO  Richard  Wagner 

eternal  oblivion  have  come  for  both.     The  tragedy 
is  over. 

That  is  the  marvellous  poem  which  Wagner  made 
of  the  old  story  of  Godfrey,  a  poem  in  itself  worthy, 
despite  its  rugged  diction,  to  stand  beside  the  best 
dramatic  literature  of  Germany,  and  never  once  to  be 
thought  of  as  an  opera  libretto.  I  have  briefly  noted 
some  of  the  points  at  which  Wagner  has  separated 
himself  from  the  sources  of  his  story.  The  manner  in 
which  he  has  in  all  his  poems  utilised  the  original 
suggestions  stamps  him  as  a  dramatist  of  the  highest 
rank,  a  poet  of  lofty  gifts.  In  none  is  this  more  beau- 
tifully demonstrated  than  in  ' '  Tristan  und  Isolde. "  It  is 
true  that  in  some  of  the  later  versions  of  the  old 
poem,  when  possibly  the  early  faith  in  love  philtres 
was  fading,  the  idea  exists  that  Tristan  and  Isolde 
loved  one  another  from  their  first  meeting  ;  but,  as 
Miss  Weston  properly  notes,  "  there  is  little  doubt  that 
the  Minstrel  held  the  fatal  passion  of  the  two  lovers  to 
be  due  to  the  Minnetranc  alone."  The  frequent  ap- 
pearance of  magic  drinks  in  old  legends  is  familiar  to 
all  students  of  folk-tales  and  sagas.  Wagner  himself 
gives  us  another  instance  of  it  in  the  drinks  adminis- 
tered to  Siegfried  by  Hagen,  an  idea  which  he  ob- 
tained from  the  old  tales.  In  his  "Studies  in  the 
Wagnerian  Drama  "  (which  I  have  been  forced  to  par- 
allel in  rehearsing  some  parts  of  the  story  of  "  Tristan 
und  Isolde  ")  H.  E.  Krehbiel  calls  attention  to  the  fact 
that  the  existence  of  the  love  before  the  incident  of  the 
potion  provides  that  element  of  guilt  which  all  the 
ancient  dramatists  required  in  order  that  too  much 
sympathy  might  not  be  excited  by  the  sufferings  of 
the  hero  or  heroine.     On  the  whole,  then,  Wagner's 


Tristan  und  Isolde  31 

treatment  of  this  much-discussed  drink  is  perfect 
clear.     There  is  no  excuse  for  misunderstanding  K. 
And  it  raises   the  tragic   element   of   the   drama  far 
beyond  the  level  of  the  early  poems. 

Another  element  of  the  classic  tragedy  preserved  in 
this  work  is  that  of  the  inevitable  doom  of  the  un- 
happy pair.  They  are  victims  of  Fate  from  the  out- 
set, and  Wagner  has  kept  the  prophecy  of  death 
constantly  before  our  minds  by  making  it  appear  to 
the  lovers  themselves  as  the  only  avenue  of  escape 
from  their  misfortunes.  Furthermore,  this  fore- 
thought of  death  develops  in  the  second  act  into  a 
conviction  and  a  passionate  desire.  The  exclamations 
"  Let  me  die  "  ("Lass'  mich  sterben  ")  of  the  lovers  /  / 
are  not  mere  bursts  of  sensual  rhapsodising,  but  are 
expressions  of  their  souls'  yearning  for  the  plunge  into 
oblivion  at  the  moment  of  perfect  ecstasy.  For  both 
dread  the  turning  of  the  light  of  day  upon  them  ;  both 
foresee  a  future  of  separation  and  misery. 

The  pessimism  of  this  second  act  is  the  feature  of 
Wagner's  drama  which  has  aroused  the  largest 
amount  of  discussion.  Its  peculiarly  illogical  deduction 
from  a  turbulent,  passionate,  soul-consuming  love 
like  that  of  Tristan  and  Isolde  has  frequently  called 
forth  unfavourable  comment.  Yet  we  are  bound  to 
admit  that  in  his  treatment  of  this  element  of  his  work 
the  master  has  been  dramatically  ingenious.  In  sum- 
marising the  story  1  have  indicated  his  poetic  treat- 
ment of  the  cessation  of  the  desire  for  life  and  the 
yearning  for  death.  That  he  has  made  it  poetic  is  not 
to  be  denied,  but  it  is  not  consistent.  If  the  lovers 
had  sworn  renunciation  and  had  suffered  from  the 
enforcement   of  their  vow,  there  would   have  been 


312  Richard  Wagner 

consistency  in  their  desire  to  die.  But  in  the  midst  of 
unbridled  indulgence  in  their  passion  they  would  have 
wished  to  live,  unless  there  had  been  surfeit  and  the 
subsequent  moral  reaction.  But  of  this  we  have 
no  hint.  The  yearning  for  death,  however,  is  an 
outcome  of  Wagner's  absorption  of  the  philosophy 
of  Arthur  Schopenhauer.  This  writer  was  a  subject- 
ive realist  and  regarded  extant  phenomena  as  the 
products  of  the  will — that  is,  the  world  exists  because 
man  wishes  to  think  so.  The  highest  ethical  destiny 
of  man  is  the  nullification  of  the  will  by  the  practice 
of  an  ascetism  which  shall  remove  from  him  all  desire 
for  the  objects  of  sense.  These,  then,  being  but  cre- 
ations of  the  will,  shall  disappear,  and  the  will,  the 
only  reality,  shall  quietly  renounce  itself  and  vanish 
into  the  infinite.  The  doctrine  is  closely  allied  to  that 
of  the  Buddhist  Nirvana.  Wagner's  endeavour  to 
reconcile  it  with  the  dramatic  ideas  of  "Tristan  und 
Isolde"  was  not  successful.  Asceticism  and  adultery 
are  not  companions.  But  from  the  Schopenhaureian 
pessimism  he  drew  the  long-continued  harping  upon 
night  and  death,  which  is  considerably  more  poetical 
than  the  thoughts  of  the  philosopher.  In  the  second 
act  the  music  of  the  duet  breathes  all  the  pulsing  and 
the  languors  of  consuming  passion,  and  the  score 
effectually  masks  the  dramatic  ineffectiveness  of  the 
dialogue. 

Otherwise  the  second  act  is  a  wonderful  conception. 
In  no  other  part  of  Wagner's  writings  is  his  perfect 
command  of  his  own  union  of  the  arts  tributary  to  the 
drama  more  beautifully  demonstrated.  The  picture, 
the  action,  the  music,  combine  to  create  a  poetic 
effect  upon  the  mind  of  the  auditor.     The  dramatic 


Tristan  und  Isolde  313 

instincts  of  Wagner  led  him  to  centralise  in  one  meet- 
ing of  the  lovers  all  the  long-drawn  passion  of  the  old 
legend.  In  the  drama  we  have  but  one  meeting, 
which  brings  about  the  catastrophe.  And  whatever 
we  may  think  of  the  undramatic  character  of  the 
Schopenhaureian  pessimism,  which,  as  I  have  written 
elsewhere,  is  dragged  into  the  story  by  the  neck,  it 
affords  ground  for  a  poetic  dialogue  rich  in  mysticism 
and  not  shocking  in  suggestion  of  mere  fleshly  desire. 
The  dwarf  Melot  of  the  legend  becomes  the  faithless 
friend  of  Tristan  in  the  drama.  He  is  merely  a  sketch, 
for  his  one  action  is  but  a  piece  of  mechanism  in  the 
movement  of  the  story. 

The  substitution  of  a  long  harangue  for  a  swift  blow 
of  the  sword  has  caused  the  proverbial  finger  of  scorn 
to  be  pointed  at  King  Mark,  who  comes  upon  the 
stage  in  this  act  to  discover  his  bride  in  the  arms  of 
his  knight.  But  he  is  certainly  a  vast  improvement  on 
the  Mark  of  the  legend,  who  was  constantly  hesitat- 
ing, who  even  saw  the  guilty  pair  asleep  in  the  forest, 
but  refused  to  believe  because  the  naked  sword  lay 
between  them.  This  Mark  at  least  does  not  suspect 
and  confide  in  turns,  send  them  away  and  then  take 
them  back.  The  long  speech  explains  certain  points 
which  are  the  best  defence  of  Mark's  "sermonising," 
as  it  is  often  called.  It  tells  us  that  he  wed  a  second 
time  only  because  his  court  and  his  people  demanded 
it,  and  because  Tristan  himself  declared  that  he  would 
leave  Cornwall  unless  the  King  yielded.  The  fact  that 
it  was  a  political  marriage,  and  that  the  King  was  old 
and  weary  and  not  prone  to  emotional  flashes,  may 
serve  to  explain  why  he  talks  instead  of  slaying  Tris- 
tan on  the  spot.     At  any  rate  Wagner's  conception  of 


3^4  Richard  Wagner 

the  voluntary  release  of  the  embrace  of  life  by  the 
guilty  lovers  is  carried  out,  for  when  Mark  does  not 
cut  him  down,  Tristan  throws  himself  upon  Melot's 
sword. 

Miss  Weston,  who  makes  much  of  the  authority  of 
the  old  legends  and  of  resemblances  in  the  folk-lore  or 
mythology  of  antiquity,  regrets  that  the  death  of  Tris- 
tan in  the  third  act  is  less  touching  than  in  the  legend, 
where,  deceived  by  Isolde  of  the  White  Hand  and 
believing  himself  forsaken  by  his  own  Isolde,  he 
silently  turns  his  face  to  the  wall  and  breathes  out  his 
life  with  the  name  of  the  loved  one  on  his  lips.  And 
she  furthermore  repeats  the  criticism  of  Gaston  Paris 
that  the  final  speech  of  Isolde  contains  more  philo- 
sophy than  poetry,  a  weak  criticism  as  one  reading  of 
the  text  will  shov/.  Mr.  Krehbiel  more  aptly  notes 
that  the  elimination  of  the  second  Isolde  removes  from 
the  character  of  Tristan  a  stain  which  was  placed  upon 
it  by  his  loveless  second  marriage,  and  saves  us  the 
shock  of  seeing  the  wife  and  the  mistress  in  contest 
about  his  dying  couch.  Furthermore,  the  musical 
treatment  of  the  act  is  to  my  mind  the  most  convinc- 
ing piece  of  dramatic  writing  in  the  literature  of  the 
lyric  stage.  1  say  this  without  forgetting  the  wonders 
of  the  first  and  second  acts.  There  are  certain  simi- 
larities in  the  musical  plans  of  the  three  acts.  Each 
begins  with  a  passage  intended  to  create  an  atmos- 
phere: the  first,  with  the  sailor's  song  floating  down 
from  aloft;  the  second,  with  the  music  of  the  hunt  dy- 
ing away  under  the  black  arches  of  the  forest;  and  the 
third  with  the  shepherd's  pipe  wailing  the  heart- 
wrecking  song  of  the  empty  sea.  Nothing  in  the 
lyric  drama  excels  the  potency  of  the  combined  scene, 


Tristan  und  Isolde  315 

action,  text,  and  music  at  the  opening  of  the  second 
act  except  the  astonishing  effect  of  the  preliminary 
measures  of  the  third. 

And  then  follows  a  succession  of  those  emotional 
waves,  mounting  in  foaming  crests  of  tone  and  sinking 
in  throbbing  refluxes,  which  no  other  composer 
ever  wrote  as  Wagner  did.  Tristan's  fevered  mind, 
yearning  for  the  ship,  waxes  and  wanes  in  crescendi 
and  diminuendi  of  passion  till  the  suffering  and  sym- 
pathising spectator  fancies  that  his  nature  will  endure 
no  more.  And  then  at  the  apex  of  one  of  the  awful 
upward  flights  of  delirium  comes  that  tremendous 
climax  made  by  the  changing  of  the  melody  of  the 
shepherd's  pipe.  The  ship  is  sighted.  Now  comes 
a  period  of  vehement  action,  ending  with  the  frenzied 
man's  tearing  off  the  bandage,  and  sinking  into  Isolde's 
arms  to  breathe  out  his  life.  Another  burst  of  action 
follows  this  crisis,  and  then  the  stillness  of  death  itself 
prevails  while  the  musical  finale  of  the  work,  the 
wonderful  "Liebestod,"  falls  upon  the  audience  "  like 
the  sound  of  a  great  Amen."  There  is  nothing  in  the 
old  legend  to  suggest  the  astounding  effects  which 
Wagner  has  heaped  up  in  this  last  act.  It  is  all  the 
inspiration  of  a  master  genius  working  without  tram- 
mels in  a  field  created  by  its  own  powers. 

III. — The  Musical  Exposition 

Let  us  turn  now  to  a  brief  examination  of  the  musi- 
cal structure  of  "  Tristan  und  Isolde."  It  is  not  prac- 
ticable to  make  this  examination  exhaustive,  nor  would 
it  be  profitable.  For  those  who  desire  to  detect  each 
motive  of  the  score  as  it  passes  them  in  the  general 
panorama  of  tone  there  are  many  handbooks.     The 


3i6  Richard  Wagner 

present  writer  does  not  believe  that  the  dramatic 
influence  of  Wagner's  music  upon  the  auditor  is  de- 
pendent on  the  latter's  full  acquaintance  with  the 
terminology  of  the  significant  themes.  That  a  certain 
intellectual  pleasure  is  added  to  the  hearing  of  one  of 
these  dramas  by  a  recognition  of  the  identity  of  the 
motives  is  not  to  be  denied,  and  that  their  dramatic 
purport  should  always  be  clear  to  the  hearer's  mind  is 
beyond  dispute  ;  but  it  should  never  be  the  purpose 
of  an  auditor  to  concentrate  his  attention  on  the 
themes.  Learn  their  meaning  from  the  text.  Then 
let  them  alone,  and  they  will  do  their  work. 

In  "  Tristan  und  Isolde  "  we  come  upon  the  Wag- 
nerian system  worked  out  to  its  end.  Indeed,  the 
composer  went  even  further.  In  a  letter  to  Francis 
Villot  in  Paris  in  i860,  afterward  published  under  the 
title  of  "  Music  of  the  Future,"  the  poet-composer 
said  of  "Tristan  und  Isolde": 

"  Upon  that  work  I  consent  to  your  making  the  severest  claims  de- 
ducible  from  my  theoretic  premises  ;  not  because  I  formed  it  on  my 
system,  for  every  theory  was  clean  forgotten  by  me  ;  but  since  here  I 
moved  with  fullest  freedom  and  the  most  utter  disregard  of  every 
theoretic  scruple,  to  such  an  extent  that  during  the  working  out  I 
myself  was  aware  how  far  1  had  outstripped  my  system." 

The  composer  sought  in  this  drama  to  free  himself 
from  all  the  restrictions  of  historical  detail,  and  to 
centralise  the  music  upon  the  expression  of  the  emo- 
tions of  his  personage,  to  make  the  play  of  emotions, 
and  not  the  succession  of  incidents,  the  real  material 
of  the  drama.  This  had  always  been  his  ideal  of  the 
lyric  drama,  but  he  had  not  been  certain  of  its  prac- 
ticability. In  the  letter  just  quoted  he  says  on  this 
point  : 


Tristan  und  Isolde  317 

"  All  doubt  at  last  was  taken  from  me  when  1  gave  myself  up  to  the 
'Tristan.'  Here,  in  perfect  trustfulness,  I  plunged  into  the  inner 
depths  of  soul  events,  and  from  out  this  inmost  centre  of  the  world  I 
fearlessly  built  up  its  outer  form.  A  glance  at  the  volumen  of  this 
poem  will  show  you  at  once  that  the  exhaustive  detail  work,  which 
a  historical  poet  is  obliged  to  devote  to  clearing  up  the  outward  bear- 
ings of  his  plot,  to  the  detriment  of  a  lucid  exposition  of  its  inner 
motives,  I  now  trusted  myself  to  apply  to  these  latter  alone.  Life 
and  death,  the  whole  import  and  existence  of  the  outer  world,  here 
hang  on  nothing  but  the  inner  movements  of  the  soul.  The  whole 
affecting  action  comes  about  for  reason  only  that  the  inmost  soul  de- 
mands it  and  steps  to  light  with  the  very  shape  foretokened  in  the 
inner  shrine." 

In  beginning  the  work,  he  wrote  the  text  without 
any  thought  of  operatic  style.  The  reader  will  note 
that  it  is  written  in  a  freely  formed  rhymed  verse,  the 
rhythms  being  few,  but  elastic,  and  of  such  a  nature 
that  the  poetry  suggests  the  form  of  the  melody  with- 
out hampering  the  composer.  This  result  could  have 
been  achieved  only  by  the  procreation  of  both  verse 
and  music  by  one  mind.  The  organic  union  of  text 
and  tone  was  conceived  in  Wagner's  brain  before  pen 
touched  paper.  In  reference  to  this  he  says  in  the 
"  Music  of  the  Future  " : 

"  Whereas  the  verses  were  there  [in  the  Italian  opera]  intended  to 
be  stretched  to  the  length  demanded  by  that  melody  through  count- 
less repetitions  of  words  and  phrases,  in  the  musical  setting  of 
'  Tristan  '  not  a  trace  of  word  repetition  is  any  longer  found,  but  the 
weft  of  words  and  verses  foreordains  the  whole  dimensions  of  the 
melody,  i.  e.,  the  structure  of  that  melody  is  already  erected  by 
the  poet." 

At  a  first  glance  this  seems  to  be  a  contradiction  of 
Wagner's  theory  that  the  poem  should  not  impose  its 
form  on  the  music.  But  we  must  bear  in  mind  that 
this  poetry  was  prepared  with  the  avoidance  of  text 


3i8  Richard  Wagner 

domination  in  the  poet's  mind.  Wagner  wrote  to 
Villot  that  he  found  that  his  melody  and  its  form 
were  wholly  freed  from  the  old  shackles.  He  com- 
posed with  the  utmost  liberty. 

Before  noting  a  few  of  the  most  significant  phrases 
of  this  score,  which  is  a  shimmering  web  of  leading 
motives,  let  us  take  a  glance  at  the  general  plan. 
Here  is  a  work  constructed  upon  a  model  diametri- 
cally opposed  to  the  familiar  one  of  Meyerbeer,  the  one 
regnant  in  Europe  at  the  date  of  ' '  Tristan  und  Isolde's  " 
production.  Meyerbeer  built  entirely  for  the  succes- 
sion of  incidents,  musical  and  pictorial.  The  dramatic 
idea  had  to  conform  itself  to  this  scheme.  Wagner 
built  wholly  on  the  ground  of  the  thought  and  feel- 
ings of  his  personages,  and  the  action  and  the  music 
had  to  place  themselves  as  explicators  wholly  at  the 
service  of  these  inner  governors.  Yet  we  shall  find 
that  each  act  of  the  drama  has  a  clear  and  symmetrical 
musical  shape,  and  that  although  this  form  is  pre- 
scribed by  the  emotional  movement,  it  is  none  the 
less  grounded  upon  the  fundamental  laws  of  musical 
form. 

Each  of  the  three  acts  begins  with  a  musical  mood 
picture,  in  which  the  elements  of  external  descrip- 
tion and  inner  feeling  are  skilfully  combined.  The 
first  act  opens  with  the  quaint,  peaceful  song  of 
the  sailor,  which  suggests  a  calm  sea  and  a  pleasant 
voyage.  The  second  begins  with  the  hunting  music 
dying  away  in  the  forest,  music  which  establishes  a 
nature  mood,  a  mood  of  moonlight  and  rustling  leaves. 
The  third  is  ushered  in  with  the  music  of  the  empty 
sea,  a  descriptive  lament  whose  profound  melancholy 
is  not  equalled  in  any  other  score.    Starting  from  each 


Tristan  und  Isolde  319 

of  these  pictures,  Wagner  develops  an  act.  The 
sailor's  song  in  Act  I.  is  followed  by  a  sudden  inter- 
ruption of  the  peaceful  mood.  Isolde's  passion  begins 
to  play.  It  bursts  into  tumult.  The  curtain  is  thrown 
back,  and  to  accompany  the  motionless  picture  of 
Tristan  at  the  helm,  the  sailor's  song  is  repeated. 
Again  the  music  gradually  rises  in  emotional  force,  till 
another  climax  is  reached,  when  Kurvenal  trolls  his 
ditty  and  the  insulted  Isolde  has  the  curtain  closed. 
Another  point  of  repose,  and  again  with  Isolde's  pas- 
sion the  music  rises,  but  sinks  to  languorous  yearning 
as  she  tells  of  the  glance  that  won  her  soul.  The 
wave  mounts  again  as  she  curses  Tristan  and  cries 
for  vengeance.  The  music  sinks  into  impressive 
depths  as  Isolde  proclaims  her  purpose  to  administer 
the  drink  of  death,  and  here  Wagner  relieves  the 
strain  and  makes  a  sharp  contrast  by  introducing  the 
cries  of  the  seamen  outside.  Then  follow  Kurvenal's 
boisterous  entrance,  and  at  length  the  entrance  of 
Tristan,  which  is  heralded  by  an  orchestral  passage 
voicing  the  heroism  and  the  fate  of  the  hero,  a  pas- 
sage of  extraordinary  power.  The  scene  between 
Tristan  and  Isolde  begins  resposefully  and  rises  to  a 
climax  of  passion  at  the  taking  of  the  drink.  Then 
comes  a  moment  of  expectancy,  followed  by  an  up- 
heaval, and  then  each  utters  the  other's  name  in  a 
phrase  of  deepest  yearning.  The  sailor's  music  again 
affords  the  necessary  relief,  and  the  act  comes  to  an 
end  in  a  turmoil  of  tone. 

The  musical  scheme  of  the  second  act  is  simpler 
because  the  emotions  are  less  complex.  After  the 
opening  mood  picture,  Isolde  has  a  brief  scene  of  con- 
test with  Brangiine,  and  at  the  extinction  of  the  torch 


320  Richard  Wagner 

the  musical  wave,  which  has  been  growing,  curls  and 
breaks.  The  next  one  starts  with  Isolde's  waving 
her  scarf.  Now  we  have  a  rapid,  agitated  movement, 
depicting  the  wild  haste  of  Tristan,  the  eagerness  of 
Isolde.  The  lover  enters  and  this  movement  becomes 
tumultuous.  When  its  climax  is  reached  the  neces- 
sary point  of  repose  is  made  as  Tristan  leads  Isolde  to 
the  seat.  We  have  had  an  allegro  agitato;  now  fol- 
lows an  adagio  appassionata,  the  love  duet.  Its  long- 
drawn,  melting  measures  are  broken  once  by  the 
watch-cry  of  Brangane — so  composed  that  it  does  not 
interrupt,  but  intensifies  the  mood — and  at  last  the  rude 
interruption  of  Kurvenal.  The  contrast  here  is  short 
and  sharp.  The  dramatic  situation  is  enough.  Then 
follows  another  slow  movement, — the  coda  of  the 
adagio, — Mark's  speech,  Tristan's  answer,  his  appeal 
to  Isolde,  her  answer.  With  the  few  crashing  meas- 
ures of  Melot  and  of  Tristan's  self-impalement,  the 
musical  scheme  is  completed.  Its  form  is  perfect;  its 
organic  union  with  the  mood  scheme  of  the  act 
complete. 

The  musical  plan  of  the  third  act  has  again  more 
detail,  because  the  story  is  more  incidental.  With  the 
melancholy  music  of  the  empty  sea  as  a  starting-point, 
Wagner  develops  a  long  adagio,  whose  wave-crests 
are  the  summits  of  Tristan's  delirious  outbursts.  This 
adagio  ends  when  the  shepherd's  pipe  proclaims  the 
sighting  of  the  sail.  Then  enters  the  allegro  agitato 
of  the  act,  the  wild  rhapsody  of  Tristan,  the  tearing 
off  of  the  bandages,  and  the  death  of  the  hero.  With 
Isolde's  mourning  over  the  body  we  get  a  point  of 
repose  and  contrast.  The  shepherd  announces  a  sec- 
ond ship.     Descriptive  music  of  rapid  movement  fol- 


Tristan  und  Isolde 


321 


lows,  till  the  fight  is  interrupted  by  Mark's  entrance, 
and  the  final  slow  movement  is  begun.  This  move- 
ment comes  to  its  majestic  climax  with  the  "Liebes- 
tod,"  and  with  a  few  bars  of  finale  by  the  orchestra 
the  work  ends,  like  Tschaikowsky's  sixth  symphony, 
with  its  adagio  lamentoso. 

The  drama  is  prefaced  by  a  prelude,  in  which  some 
of  the  most  significant  themes  of  the  work  appear. 
The  thought  underlying  the  prelude  is  the  insatiable 
desire  of  the  lovers,  ever  rising  higher  and  higher  in 
emotional  waves  till  it  sinks  exhausted  in  its  vain  en- 
deavour \o  find  its  own  satisfaction.  Several  themes 
are  combined  in  the  musical  structure  of  the  Vorspiel, 
but  the  most  important  are  those  of  Love  and  the 


LOVE. 

Slow.  ^- 

Oboe. 

^           ^                        .        >         1              ■>. 

TT^-fr 

1  ^^-"-^  ^ 1 [3- 

^fVr?^ — r~ 

— 1 1 =~ 

f*— 

ft  J  • — s w— 

-••M- — •* — ^ — ^ — ^ — 

J        y- 

'Cello. 

^r- 

11^  •      I* 

(-^  • 

n 

U r 1 

THE  GLANCE. 


Ml 


XH 


^ 


r 

Glance  of  Tristan;  the  glance  which,  Isolde  tells  Bran- 
giine,  stayed  her  hand  when  she  had  discovered  that 
Tristan  was  the  slayer  of  Morold  and  had  lifted  the 
sword  to  slay  him.  These  two  marvellously  express- 
ive themes  are  heard  frequently  throughout  the  drama. 
The   sailor's  song,  with  which  the  first  act  begins, 


322 


Richard  Wagner 


contains  the  melody  of  the  sea  music,  heard  several 
times  in  the  course  of  the  act. 


THE  SEA. 


(W^, — ] 

^li-A 

f^^ 

< 

\,.. 

=.h^ai 

id=^ 

^^ 

\li^^,^-^ 

■■  1       ■       ■ 

h^     '-^ 

#e3         '  -  - '     - 

1-  1        -     -  J 

This  theme  belongs  to  what  Mr.  Krehbiel  has  well 
described  as  the  music  of  the  scene,  or  scenic  music. 
It  deals  with  the  externals  of  the  drama,  not  with  its 
emotions.  The  next  significant  motive  to  appear  is 
that  of  Death,  which  is  first  heard  when  Isolde  ex- 
claims, "Death-devoted  head!  Death-devoted  heart!" 


Closely  associated  with  this  in  meaning  is  the  Fate 
motive,  which  is  first  heard  in  the  harmonic  scheme 
of  the  prelude, 

FATE. 


We  have  now   before    us   nearly 
thematic  material  of  the  first  act. 


all  the   significant 
Most  of  the  other 


Tristan  und  Isolde 


323 


melodic  features  are  freely  composed  and  do  not  figure 
in  the  subsequent  episodes.  The  repetitions  of  the  mo- 
tives quoted  will  explain  themselves  to  the  most  casual 
observer.  The  re-entrances  of  the  Death  and  Fate  mo- 
tives are  unmistakable  in  purport,  while  the  reappear- 
ance of  the  Love  and  Glance  themes  after  the  drinking 
of  the  potion  brings  back  the  opening  of  the  prelude 
with  its  story  of  desire  insatiable,  love  immeasurable. 
The  play  upon  the  contrasting  fancies  of  night  and 
day,  which  forms  the  figurative  material  of  the  lovers' 
dialogue  in  the  second  act,  suggests  new  thematic  de- 
vices, and  so  the  act  opens  with  the  proclamation  by 
the  orchestra  of  the  Day  theme. 


i 


DAY. 


^ 


^^ 


:^ 


^ 


z^z 


^=^ 


^ 


Derived  from  this  is  the  beautiful  motive  of  the 
Night,  which  appears  in  Tristan's  long  speech  dealing 
with  the  fanciful  contrast  of  the  two.  When  he  says, 
"Was  dort  in  keuscher  Nacht  dunkel  verschlossen 
wacht?"  ("What  watches  yonder  darkly  concealed 
in  chaste  Night  ? ")  the  theme  sings  softly  in  the 
orchestral  accompaniment: 

NIGHT. 

da 


324 


Richard  Wagner 


This  luscious,  languorous  theme  plays  an  important 
part  throughout  the  act.  The  hearer  will  note  how 
beautifully  it  serves  as  the  introduction  to  the  canta- 
bile  of  the  duo,  "O  sinl^'  hernieder,"  and  how  ef- 
fectively the  composer  has  made  the  day  and  night 
variations  of  the  one  fundamental  musical  idea  carry 
out  the  thought  of  the  dialogue.  Another  theme 
which  appears  in  the  introductory  music  of  the  second 
act  is  that  of  the  Triumph  of  Love: 

TRIUMPH  OF  LOVE. 


/    (Clar.) 

From  a  development  of  this  theme,  by  the  simple 
musical  device  of  augmentation,  Wagner  constructs 
the  climax  of  the  duo,  which  becomes  again  the 
climax  of  the  last  speech  of  Isolde  over  the  dead  body 
of  Tristan : 


ff^E 


:^ 


^  -r- 


1 — t- 


jt_j«- 


>-l-Hi= 


Another  significant  motive  heard  in  the  opening 
measures  of  the  act  is  the  Love  Call,  which  is  after- 
ward employed  frequently  in  the  action: 


LOVE  CALL. 

A  llegro. 


Tristan  und  Isolde 


325 


These  are  the  principal  and  most  significant  new  mo- 
tives which  appear  in  the  love  music  of  this  wonderful 
act.  Of  course,  some  of  the  themes  heard  in  the  first 
act  are  employed  here  again,  and  nothing  in  the  entire 
score  is  more  charged  with  meaning  than  the  combin- 
ation of  the  motive  of  the  Triumph  of  Love  with  the 
harmonies  of  that  of  Death  at  the  instant  of  Isolde's  ex- 
tinction of  the  torch.  Such  feats  of  musical  depiction 
the  attentive  listener  will  find  on  every  page  of  the 
score,  yet  the  actual  number  of  motives  to  which 
special  meanings  have  been  attached  is  not  large 
enough  to  tax  the  memory.  The  appearance  of  King 
Mark  in  the  action  is  noted  by  two  motives,  one  used 
to  indicate  his  personality  and  the  other  his  grief: 


MARK. 


MARK'S  GRIEF. 


The  third  act  opens  with  music  descriptive  of  bitter 
grief  and  loneliness.  The  first  phrase,  that  of  grief,  is 
a  remarkable  thematic  development  of  the  second  half 
of  the  Love  motive: 


GRIEF. 


Strings.    / 


dim. 


326 


Richard  Wagner 


The  ensuing  long  ascending  passage  expresses  lone- 
liness most  eloquently.  This  is  interrupted  by  a  new 
motive,  heard  frequently  in  this  act,  the  motive  of 
Anguish: 


ANGUISH. 


The  melody  played  by  the  shepherd's  pipe  has  re- 
ceived various  titles,  but  it  speaks  its  own  language 
of  melancholy.  The  music  allotted  to  Kurvenal  in  the 
opening  scene  of  the  act  is  similar  in  character  to  that 
which  he  sings  in  Act  I.,  and  at  one  place  is  a 
repetition  of  it.  In  the  long  speeches  of  Tristan  we 
hear  repeated  with  powerful  dramatic  significance  the 
motives  of  Day  and  Night,  the  Love  theme,  the  Death 
theme,  the  motive  of  Anguish,  and  snatches  of  the  love 
duo  of  Act  II.  The  musical  material  of  the  entire 
act  is  now  woven  of  what  has  already  been  heard. 
The  motives  melt  and  flow  in  a  stream  of  marvellous 
melody,  till  at  the  end  Isolde  proclaims  her  hero's 
greatness  in  the  "Liebestod,"  which  is  a  repetition, 
with  some  developments,  of  Tristan's  "So  sturben 
wir  urn  ungetrennt,  ewig'  einig'  ohne  End',"  and  the 
motive  of  the  Triumph  of  Love  : 


Tristan  und  Isolde 


te^ 


^^ 


W==iit 


80     stUr  -  ben      wir     um 
So      die    that      we      to 


un 
geth 


-  ge-trenni,, 

-  er   blend, 


i 


:W: 


:tlMz 


^^ 


E    -     wig, 
Liv    -    ing, 


eln 

lov 


Ing. 


oh 
witli 


ne 
out 


End', 
end. 


There  are  other  motives  in  this  stupendous  score, 
but,  as  I  have  already  intimated,  it  would  be  idle  for 
the  music-lover  to  burden  his  memory  with  them. 
Many  of  them  are  thematic  developments  of  phrases 
first  heard  in  the  germinal  form,  and  it  is  in  the  over- 
whelming eloquence  of  these  developments  that  the 
power  of  the  score  is  largely  to  be  found.  With  the 
themes  already  given  the  lover  of  the  true  lyric  drama 
should  readily  understand  the  purposes  of  the  com- 
poser. For  the  rest,  the  perfect  organic  union  of  text, 
tone,  and  action  in  "Tristan  und  Isolde  "  makes  it  the 
most  directly  expressive  of  all  the  later  dramas.  Only 
those  who  go  to  hear  it  with  the  conception  of  an  old- 
fashioned  opera  in  their  minds  fail  to  receive  its  message. 
"Tristan  und  Isolde"  is  a  drama  of  human  emotions 
uttered  in  tones.  As  such  it  must  be  conceded  a  place 
among  the  mightiest  conceptions  of  the  poetic  brain. 


DIE  MEISTERSINGER  VON  NORNBERG 
Opera  in  Three  Acts. 

First  performed  at  the  Royal  Court  Theatre, 
Munich,  June  21,  1868. 


Original  Cast. 

Hans  Sachs 

.  Betz. 

Veit  Pogner      .... 

Bausewein 

Kunz  Vogelgesang    . 

.     Heinrich 

Conrad  Nachtigall 

.         .         .    Sigl 

Sixtus  Beckmesser    . 

Holzel 

Fritz  Kothner    .... 

Fischer 

Bahhazar  Zorn  .... 

Weixlstorfer 

Ulrich  Eislinger 

Hoppe 

Augustin  Moser 

Poppl 

Hermann  Ortel  . 

Thoms 

Hans  Schwartz 

Graffer 

Hans  Foltz 

Hayn 

Walther  von  Stolzing 

.  Nachbaur 

David         .... 

.   Schlosser 

Eva 

Fraulein  Mallinger 

Magdalene 

Frau  Diez 

Ein  Nachtwachter 

Lang 

Weimar,  Mannheim,  Carlsruhe,  Dresden,  Dessau, 
1869  ;  Berlin,  Hanover,  Vienna,  Leipsic,  Stettin,  Kon- 
igsberg,    1870;    Hamburg,    Prague,    Bremen,    1871  ; 

328 


Die  Meistersinger  von  Niirnberg    329 


Riga,  Copenhagen,  1872  ;  Mayence,  1873  5  Cologne, 
Nuremberg,  Breslau,  1874  ;  Brunswick,  1876  ;  Strass- 
burg,  Augsburg,  1877;  Gratz,  Dusseldorf,  1878;  Wies- 
baden, Rotterdam,  Darmstadt,  1879  ;  Schwerin,  1881; 
London,  May  30,  1882. 

First  performed  in  America  at  the  Metropolitan  Opera 
House,  New  York,  Jan.  4,  1886. 


Cast. 

Hans  Sachs 

Veit  Pogner 

Kunz  Vogelgesang 

Conrad  Nachtigall 

Sixtus  Beckmesser 

Fritz  Kothner     . 

Balthasar  Zorn    . 

Ulrich  Eislinger  . 

Augustin  Moser . 

Hermann  Ortel    . 

Hans  Schwartz   . 

Hans  Foltz 

Walther  von  Stolzing 

David 

Eva     ....     Auguste 

Magdalena  . 

Nachtwachter 

Conductor,  Anton 


Emil  Fischer. 

Joseph  Staudigl. 

Herr  Dworsky. 

Emil  Saenger. 

Otto  Kemlitz. 

Herr  Lehmler. 

Herr  Hoppe. 

Herr  Klaus. 

Herr  Langer. 

Herr  Doerfler. 

Herr  Eissbeck. 

Herr  Anlauf. 

Albert  Stritt. 

Herr  Kramer. 

Krauss  (Mrs.  Seidl). 

Marianne  Brandt. 

Carl  Kauffmann. 

Seidl. 


DIE    MEISTERSINGER  VON   NURNBERG 

"Tannhauser"  was  finished  in  April,  1844,  and  in 
the  summer  of  that  year,  while  at  Marienbad,  Wagner 
made  the  sketch  of  "Die  Meistersinger  von  Nurn- 
berg."  He  designed  this  comic  opera  as  a  pendant  to 
the  serious  "Tannhauser"  (see  Chapter  VI.  of  the 
biographical  part  of  this  work),  and  no  doubt  the  his- 
torical relations  of  the  minnesingers,  who  figured  in 
the  tragedy,  with  the  meistersingers,  who  provided 
him  with  the  characters  for  his  comedy,  suggested  the 
nature  of  the  humorous  opera  and  the  general  manner 
of  the  treatment  of  the  subject.  The  first  drafts  of  the 
comedy  were  made  in  the  summer  of  1844,  but  the 
poem  was  completed  in  Paris  in  the  winter  of  1861-62. 
The  music  was  begun  in  1862,  but,  as  we  have  seen, 
was  laid  aside  when  the  composer  fled  from  his  credit- 
ors, as  narrated  in  Chapter  XI.  of  the  biography.  The 
work  was  resumed  after  King  Ludwig  had  become 
Wagner's  protector,  and  the  score  was  finished  on 
Oct.  21,  1867. 

Something  of  the  character  of  the  German  minne- 
singer we  have  seen  in  our  study  of  "Tannhauser," 
where  Wagner  gives  an  idealised  picture  of  one  of 
their  courtly  contests  in  poetry  and  song.  These 
minnesingers  were  the  German  companions  and  imi- 
tators of  the  French  troubadours,  from  whom  they 
took  their  origin.     Their  epoch  dates  from  the  reign 

330 


Die  Meistersinger  von  Nurnberg     331 

of  Conrad  III.,  of  the  Hohenstauffen  dynasty,  who 
ascended  the  throne  in  1 138,  In  1 148,  when  he  under- 
took a  crusade  in  company  with  Louis  VII.  of  France, 
the  nobility  of  Germany  were  brought  into  habitual 
acquaintance  with  the  nobility  of  France,  who  at  that 
time  were  cultivating  Provencal  poetry  and  song  in 
the  "gay  science  "  of  the  Troubadour.  The  German 
emperors  now  began  the  pursuit  of  the  customs  of 
chivalry.  They  and  their  nobles  threw  open  their 
courts  with  a  brilliant  hospitality  which  rivalled  that  of 
France.  The  splendour  of  their  tournaments,  the  glit- 
ter of  their  festivals,  drew  visitors  in  throngs  from  far 
and  near.  With  them  came  the  poet  and  the  singer,  and 
thus  the  German,  who  in  the  crusade  had  caught  the  in- 
fection of  the  chanson  of  Provence,  found  his  first  rude 
attempts  brought  face  to  face  with  the  more  polished 
productions  of  the  visiting  chanteurs  and  jongleurs. 

The  minnelied  was  the  outcome,  and  for  more  than 
a  century  this  form  of  courtly  song  was  prized  by  the 
German  people.  While  the  Hohenstauffen  dynasty 
remained  on  the  throne  (i  138-1272),  the  literature  of 
chivalry  was  patronised  at  court  and  the  song  of  the 
minstrel  was  heard  throughout  the  land.  These 
singers  were  called  minnesingers  from  the  old  German 
word  "minne,"  which  means  "love" — the  topic  most 
dear  to  the  minstrel  heart.  With  the  death  of  the  first 
Frederick,  the  great  Barbarossa,  the  star  of  the  Swabian 
dynasty  set,  and  the  sweet  sounds  of  the  Swabian  lyre 
were  soon  drowned  in  the  turmoil  of  the  internal  dis- 
orders which  beset  Germany  in  the  period  of  the  Great 
Interregnum.  This  was  a  time  after  the  death  of  the 
last  Hohenstauffen,  when  various  minor  princes  wore 
the  imperial  title  without  exercising  its  functions  or  its 


33^  Richard  Wagner 

authority.  The  customs  of  chivalry  naturally  fell  into 
disuse  when  there  was  no  central  home  for  them,  and 
the  minnesinger  became  a  memory.  The  period  of 
disturbance  was  ended  with  the  accession  to  the 
throne  of  Rudolf  of  Hapsburg.  This  monarch  was 
engaged  during  much  of  his  reign  in  putting  down 
the  internal  disorders,  and  his  chief  business  was  the 
overthrow  of  the  powerful  and  independent  nobles. 
He  was  furthermore  largely  occupied  with  quarrels 
with  the  Huns.  The  court  language  was  changed 
from  West  Gothic  to  East  Gothic,  which  was  less  na- 
tional, and  much  of  the  southern  culture  which  had 
characterised  the  reign  of  the  Swabian  emperors  in- 
evitably disappeared.  The  customs  of  chivalry  sought 
shelter  in  the  courts  of  minor  princes,  who  were  un- 
able to  give  prizes  of  sufficient  value  to  attract  the 
knightly  singers,  engaged,  as  most  of  them  were,  in 
their  final  struggle  for  power  and  privilege. 

The  field  of  poetry  and  song  was  left  to  competitors 
of  lower  social  standing.  A  versifying  mania  now 
began  to  pervade  the  lower  classes.  Blacksmiths, 
weavers,  shoemakers,  doctors,  and  schoolmasters 
sought  to  mend  their  fortunes  by  making  verses. 
Poetry  became  dull,  mechanical,  pedantic;  poets,  con- 
ceited, shallow,  and  arrogant.  The  spirit  of  the  age, 
filled  with  the  instinct  of  preservation  through  co- 
operation against  attack  from  without,  led  these 
people  to  form  themselves  into  corporations,  and 
Charles  IV.  (1346-78)  gave  them  a  charter.  They 
spoke  of  twelve  minnesingers  as  their  models  and 
masters,*  and  themselves  they  called  mastersingers. 

♦This  explains  the  meaning  of  Kothner's  question  to  Waltherinthe 
first  act,   "  What  master  taught  you  the  art  ?  "     To  this  Walther  an- 


Die  Meistersinger  von  Niirnberg     333 

They  held  periodical  meetings  to  criticise  each  other's 
productions.  Correctness  was  their  chief  aim,  and 
they  seem  to  have  had  little  real  conception  of  poetry. 
Every  fault  was  marked  and  he  who  made  the  fewest 
was  awarded  the  prize  and  permitted  to  take  apprent- 
ices in  the  meistersinger's  art.  At  the  expiration  of 
his  apprenticeship  a  young  man  was  admitted  to  the 
corporation  and  declared  a  "Meistersinger." 

The  first  mastersinger  of  whom  we  know  anything 
was  Heinrich  von  Meissen,  called  "  Frauenlob  "  be- 
cause of  his  fondness  for  singing  the  praise  of  woman. 
He  founded  a  guild  of  meistersingers  at  Mainz  in  131 1, 
and  by  the  end  of  the  fourteenth  century  most  towns 
in  Germany  had  similar  bodies.  The  school  reached  its 
highest  development  in  Nuremberg  in  the  time  of  Hans 
Sachs  (1494-1 575).  Sachsisan  historical  character,  and 
there  is  abundant  opportunity  for  the  study  of  his  style, 
as  6048  of  his  works  are  extant.*  It  was  his  period 
which  Wagner  selected  for  treatment  in  his  comedy. 

The  order  of  meistersingers,  however,  continued 
to  practise  its  calling  long  after  this  time.  At  Ulm 
the  institution  survived  even  the  changes  which  the 
French  Revolution  effected  in  Europe.  As  late  as 
1830  twelve  old  mastersingers,  after  being  driven 
from  one  refuge  to  another,  sang  their  ancient  mel- 
odies from  memory  in  a  little  inn  where  the  working 
men  used  to  meet  to  drink  their  beer  in  the  evenings. 

swers  with  the  beautiful  lyric,  "  Am  stillen  Herd,"  in  which  he 
declares  that  Walther  von  der  Vogelweide,  one  of  the  minnesingers 
(see  "  Tannhauser"  ),  was  his  master. 

*  Many  of  these  works  are  now  regarded  as  spurious,  but  the  ma- 
jority of  them  are  undoubtedly  from  the  pen  of  the  famous  cobbler- 
poet. 


334  Richard  Wagner 

In  1839  only  four  of  the  singers  survived  ;  and  in  that 
year  these  remnants  assembled  with  great  solemnity 
and,  declaring  the  society  of  mastersingers  disbanded 
forever,  presented  their  songs,  hymn  books,  and  pic- 
tures to  a  musical  institution  of  Ulm.  It  is  said  that 
the  last  of  the  four  died  in  1876, 

The  meisterlied  —  mastersong  —  created  by  these 
singers  was  a  lineal  descendant  of  the  minnelied, 
the  song  of  the  minnesinger.  The  latter  was  con- 
structed in  strophes,  and  each  strophe  consisted  of 
three  parts.  The  first  and  second  parts  were  alike 
in  metre  and  melody,  and  were  called  "Stollen." 
The  third  part  was  in  a  different  metre  and  had  its 
own  melody,  and  it  was  called  the  "Abgesang,"  or 
aftersong.  The  minnesingers  used  three  forms:  the 
Lied  (song),  the  Lerch  (lay),  and  the  Spruch  (proverb). 
The  lay  was  composed  of  differently  constructed  stro- 
phes, each  with  its  own  melody.  The  song  was  in 
several  strophes,  all  built  and  set  alike.  The  proverb 
was  in  a  single  strophe.  The  lied  form  was  that 
adapted  for  their  use  by  the  meistersingers.  Their 
songs  consisted  of  three  "Bars"  (staves).  Each  staff 
was  divided  into  three  "  Gesiitze  (stanzas).  The 
Gesatz  was  constructed  in  three  sections,  the  first  two 
being  alike  in  metre  and  melody  and  called  "  StoUen." 
The  third  section  differed  in  metre  and  had  its  own 
melody  and  was  called  the  "Abgesang,"  or  "after- 
song."  Thus  we  see  that  the  "  Bar  "  of  the  meisterlied 
corresponded  to  the  strophe  of  the  minnelied.  The 
subjects  treated  in  their  songs  were  usually  religious, 
though  secular  topics  were  not  excluded.  Sometimes 
didactic  or  epigrammatic  themes  were  chosen.  The 
tunes  were  all  fixed,  and  the  meistersinger's  art  was 


Die  Meistersinger  von  Niirnberg     335 

purely  poetic.  The  tunes  were  called  tones  and  had 
curious  names,  such  as  the  blue  tone,  the  red  tone, 
the  ape  tone,  the  lily  tone.  In  writing  his  comedy, 
Wagner,  aiming,  as  he  did,  to  reproduce  in  a  lifelike 
manner  the  customs  of  the  time,  adhered  to  the  rules 
of  the  meistersingers  in  the  matter  of  song,  and,  in 
selecting  a  theme  to  designate  the  guild,  used  the 
melody  of  the  "long  tone"  of  Heinrich  Muglin,  a 
meistersinger  of  the  early  period.  For  the  construc- 
tion of  the  song  he  lays  down  the  law  in  the  address 
of  Kothner  to  Walther,  when  the  former  reads  the 
rules  from  the  "  Leges  Tabulaturae."  These  laws 
prescribe  the  form  which  we  recognise  as  substan- 
tially that  of  the  lied  of  the  minnesinger. 

Wagner  drew  his  information  as  to  the  manners 
and  customs  of  the  meistersingers  from  the  principal 
source  of  all  our  knowledge  of  them.  This  is  a  book 
entitled  "De  Sacri  Rom.  Imperii  Libera  Civitate 
Noribergensi  Commentatio,"  written  by  Johann  Christ- 
toph  Wagenseil,  Professor  of  Oriental  Languages  at 
the  University  of  Altdorf,  and  published  in  1697. 
Not  only  did  the  poet-composer  find  his  facts  there, 
but  he  took  from  the  volume  also  the  names  of  his 
characters,  for  Veit  Pogner,  Fritz  Kothner,  Conrad 
Nachtigall,  Balthasar  Zorn,  Sixtus  Beckmesser,  and 
the  rest  of  Wagner's  meistersingers  all  walked  the 
earth  in  their  day  and  sang  their  artificial  ditties  in 
imitation  of  their  masters,  the  minnesingers.  Beck- 
messer, who  appears  as  the  "low  comedian"  of 
Wagner's  work,  seems  to  have  been  a  worthy, 
though  prosaic,  person  in  his  time.  He  was  certainly 
not  a  butt  of  derision,  such  as  Wagner's  character 
becomes  through  his  own  stupidity  and  vanity. 


336  Richard  Wagner 

The  story  of  "Die  Meistersinger "  is,  of  course, 
Wagner's  own.  His  representation  of  the  characters 
of  the  masters  is  his  own.  The  real  Hans  Sachs  is, 
perhaps,  not  so  well  known  as  the  real  Wolfram  von 
Eschenbach,  but  it  is  probable  that  he  was  only  a 
little  better  than  his  fellow  meistersingers.  His  works 
were  more  popular,  and  he  was  doubtless  a  man  of 
superior  ability.  But  it  is  not  likely  that  he  excelled 
the  rest  in  refinement  and  artistic  insight  quite  as 
much  as  he  appears  to  do  in  Wagner's  comedy.  The 
story  tells  us  that  young  Walther  von  Stolzing,  a 
Franconian  knight,  has  fallen  in  love,  almost  at  first 
sight,  with  Eva,  the  daughter  of  Veit  Pogner,  the 
most  substantial  member  of  the  guild,  a  man  of  some 
means.  Pogner  has  decided  that  his  daughter  shall 
wed  a  meistersinger,  and  that  she  shall  be  the  prize 
of  the  winner  in  the  forthcoming  contest  of  song.  Her 
own  choice  is  to  operate  only  in  so  far  as  to  permit 
her  the  liberty  of  rejecting  the  winner  if  she  does  not 
like  him.  But  she  must,  in  the  end,  marry  someone 
chosen  by  a  contest  and  approved  by  all  the  masters. 
Sachs  endeavours  to  have  the  voice  of  the  general 
public  added  to  that  of  the  guild,  but  Pogner  is  un- 
willing to  introduce  too  many  novelties  into  his 
experiment. 

Walther  meets  Eva  at  the  morning  service  of  St. 
Catherine's  Church,  in  which  the  principal  meetings 
of  the  masters  were  held.  She  tells  him  that  she 
must  choose  a  master,  and  also  that  if  he  be  not  a 
master,  she  will  have  no  other.  David,  an  apprentice 
to  Hans  Sachs,  arrives  with  other  apprentices  to  pre- 
pare the  church  for  an  examination  in  song,  and 
explains  very  vaguely  to  the  young  knight  what  he 


Die  Meistersinger  von  Nurnberg     337 

must  do  to  become  a  master.  Pogner  and  the  other 
masters  assemble,  and  Pogner,  declaring  that  the 
desire  of  a  knight  to  become  a  singer  brings  back  the 
old  times,  explains  the  presence  of  Walther.  He 
presently  announces  to  the  masters  for  the  first  time 
his  plan  in  regard  to  his  daughter's  choice,  a  plan 
which  gravely  disconcerts  Beckmesser,  an  aspirant 
for  her  hand.  Walther  is  now  introduced  as  a  can- 
didate for  the  degree  of  master.  Kothner  instructs 
him  in  the  rules  and  appoints  Beckmesser  marker. 
The  marker  was  a  critic  whose  business  it  was  to 
note  every  offence  against  the  rules.  Beckmesser 
conceals  himself  in  the  marker's  booth,  and  Walther, 
having  announced  love  as  his  theme,  sings  his  song, 
which  is  entirely  incorrect  according  to  the  laws  of 
the  guild,  but  in  which  Hans  Sachs  at  once  dis- 
covers the  force  of  a  new  genius.  In  spite  of  his  ap- 
peals the  youth  is  declared,  according  to  the  formula, 
"outsung,"  and  the  meeting  dissolves  in  confusion, 
Walther  vainly  endeavouring  to  make  himself  heard, 
Sachs  pleading  for  him,  the  other  masters  objecting, 
Beckmesser  scolding  and  pointing  out  more  faults, 
and  Pogner  deeply  troubled  lest  his  daughter's  already 
engaged  affections  make  it  impossible  for  him  to  carry 
out  his  plan. 

The  second  act  shows  us  the  street,  on  one  side  of 
which  is  the  house  of  Pogner  and  on  the  other  that 
of  Hans  Sachs.  Pogner  brings  his  daughter  home, 
still  troubled  in  his  mind  and  striving  to  fathom  hers. 
When  he  has  gone  into  the  house,  Magdalena,  Eva's 
companion,  tells  her  of  Walther's  failure,  and  she  de- 
termines to  ask  Sachs  for  advice.  Presently  the  shoe- 
maker seats  himself  at  his  work  in  the  door  of  his 


338  Richard  Wagner 

house.  The  balmy  air  of  the  evening,  the  scent  of 
the  elder  tree,  turn  his  thoughts  to  the  poetry  which 
he  heard  at  the  trial.  What  though  it  outraged  the 
rules  of  the  masters  and  even  puzzled  him  ?  Within 
it  lay  a  real  power.  The  singer  sang,  not  to  meet 
rules,  but  because  utterance  was  demanded  by  his 
feelings.  Let  the  masters  rage;  Hans  Sachs  is  well 
pleased.  This  is  the  substance  of  the  famous  mono- 
logue of  the  second  act. 

Eva  comes  from  Pogner's  house  and  in  a  most 
charming  scene  with  Sachs  hints  that  as  an  avenue  of 
escape  from  the  possibility  of  marriage  with  Beck- 
messer,  who  intends  to  compete  for  her  hand,  she 
would  be  glad  to  become  Sachs's  wife.  But  he  dis- 
courages this  foolish  idea.  Then  she  tries  to  learn 
the  details  of  the  defeat  of  Walther,  and  Sachs,  to  test 
her  feelings,  pretends  that  he  and  all  the  other  mas- 
ters were  actuated  by  mere  jealousy  in  voting  against 
the  youth.  Eva  discloses  her  real  feelings.  Sachs 
leaves  her,  and  the  next  moment  she  is  in  the  arms 
of  her  lover.  They  plan  to  elope.  Sachs,  who  has 
been  listening  and  watching,  throws  open  his  window 
and  lets  a  flood  of  light  into  the  street  just  as  they 
are  about  to  depart.  Then  Beckmesser  approaches 
for  the  purpose  of  serenading  Eva.  Sachs  now  brings 
his  bench  out  into  the  doorway,  and  begins  to  sing 
lustily  at  his  work.  Eva  and  Walther  hide,  and 
Beckmesser  inquires  the  reason  of  Sachs's  outbreak. 
The  cobbler  protests  that  he  is  trying  to  finish  the  pair 
of  shoes  which  Beckmesser  had  demanded  of  him  that 
very  day.  Magdalena,  personating  Eva,  appears  at  the 
window,  and  Beckmesser  endeavours  to  sing  his  song 
to  her.     Sachs's  singing  and  pounding  prevent  him. 


Die  Meistersinger  von  Niirnberg     339 

Then  they  come  to  an  agreement.  Sachs  is  to  act 
as  marker,  and  correct  each  error  with  a  blow  of  his 
hammer.  He  vows  that  the  shoes  will  be  finished 
before  the  song  is.  Beckmesser  sings  and  Sachs 
strikes  many  blows.  The  shoes  are  finished  first. 
Then  Beckmesser  sings  desperately  and  Sachs  shouts 
lustily.  The  neighbours,  aroused  by  the  outcry,  begin 
to  appear  at  their  windows  and  presently  in  the 
street.  David,  seeing  Magdalena,  his  sweetheart,  at 
the  window,  and  Beckmesser  serenading  her,  attacks 
the  singer  with  a  cudgel.  The  neighbours  take  sides, 
and  a  general  melee  ensues.  Walther  decides  to  cut 
his  way  through  the  throng  with  Eva  and  escape,  but 
Sachs  intercepts  him,  sends  Eva  into  the  arms  of  her 
father,  and  takes  Walther  into  his  own  house.  At  that 
moment  the  nightwatchman's  horn  is  heard.  The 
crowd  melts.  The  beaten  Beckmesser  limps  pain- 
fully away.  The  watchman  passes  up  the  empty 
street,  startled  at  his  own  shadow.  The  full  moon 
rises  over  the  distant  roofs,  and  as  the  silent  street  is 
flooded  with  its  mild  light,  the  orchestra  breathes  a 
passage  of  perfect  peace  and  beauty  while  the  curtain 
falls.  It  is  one  of  Wagner's  most  potent  dramatic 
and  musical  achievements. 

The  third  act  opens  in  the  interior  of  Sachs's  house. 
The  poet-shoemaker  is  in  a  reverie,  and  the  prattling 
of  his  apprentice  cannot  rouse  him  from  it.  When 
he  is  left  alone,  he  breaks  into  the  second  great  mono- 
logue, "Wahn,  Wahn."  One  must  read  the  entire 
text  of  this  in  order  to  understand  it.  At  its  conclu- 
sion Walther  descends  from  the  chamber  in  which  he 
has  passed  the  night,  and  informs  Sachs  that  he  has 
had  a  "wondrous  lovely  dream."    Sachs  bids  him  put 


340  Richard  Wagner 

it  into  verse,  and  make  a  mastersong  of  it.  Walther 
bitterly  asks  how  he  can  make  a  mastersong  and  one 
that 's  good.  Sachs  reproves  him  and  bids  him  ob- 
serve law  in  his  poetry.  Walther  begins  the  song 
which  he  afterward  sings  for  the  prize.  At  the  end 
of  the  first  stanza  Sachs  stops  him  and  instructs  him 
as  to  the  nature  of  a  "Stollen."  After  the  second 
"  Stollen  ■'  he  requires  the  young  knight  to  make  the 
"Abgesang."  Giving  him  several  hints  as  to  the 
construction  of  his  lay,  Sachs  writes  it  down,  deeply 
moved  by  its  beauty. 

When  Sachs  and  Walther  have  left  the  room,  Beck- 
messer  enters,  and,  finding  the  newly  written  song, 
thinks  it  is  by  Sachs  and  that  the  shoemaker  means  to 
enter  the  contest.  When  Sachs  returns  Beckmesser 
charges  him  with  this  intention,  and  to  his  surprise 
Sachs  gives  him  the  song,  vowing  that  under  no  cir- 
cumstances will  he  claim  it  as  his  own.  Beckmesser 
departs,  almost  besides  himself  with  joy.  Eva  arrives 
and  declares  that  one  of  her  shoes  hurts.  Sachs 
smiles  incredulously,  but  pretends  to  adjust  the  shoe. 
Walther,  richly  clad,  appears  and  stands  spellbound 
at  the  sight  of  Eva.  Sachs  hints  that  now  the  third 
stanza  of  the  song  might  be  produced,  and  Walther 
sings  it.  Eva,  deeply  moved,  throws  herself  into 
Sachs's  arms,  saying  that  she  has  reached  a  new  un- 
derstanding of  him  and  herself.  David  and  Magda- 
lena  enter,  and  Sachs  announces  that  a  mastersong 
has  been  m'ade.  He  promotes  David  from  apprentice 
to  journeyman  that  he  may  hear  the  song,  which  an 
apprentice  could  not  honour,  and  then  he  invites  Eva 
to  speak.  Here  is  introduced  Wagner's  one  quintet 
in  purely  lyric  style,  and  it  is  conceded  to  be  one  of 


Die  Meistersinger  von  Nurnberg    341 

the  loveliest  conceptions  of  this  extraordinary  work. 
The  party  starts  for  the  field  of  contest,  and  the  scene 
changes  to  an  open  place  on  the  banks  of  the  river. 

The  various  guilds  of  artisans  assemble,  and  finally 
the  meistersingers  enter  in  formal  procession.  Sachs, 
who  is  hailed  by  the  people  in  glad  chorus,  announces 
the  terms  of  the  contest  and  Beckmesser  is  summoned 
to  the  singer's  stand.  Trembling  in  every  limb  he 
makes  a  futile  attempt  to  sing  Walther's  song,  at 
which  he  looks  vainly  at  every  opportunity.  He 
makes  a  farce  of  it,  and  is  laughed  to  scorn  by  the 
people.  In  a  rage  he  rushes  away,  pausing  only  to 
declare  that  the  song  is  by  Sachs,  and  not  himself. 
Sachs,  however,  says  that  the  song  is  not  his  and  that 
it  is  a  good  song  if  correctly  sung.  He  calls  for  some 
one  who  can  sing  it,  and  Walther  appears.  The  mas- 
ters, though  they  divine  Sachs's  plan,  allow  the 
young  knight  to  sing,  and  the  entire  assembly,  sec- 
onded by  the  conquered  masters,  declares  that  he  has 
won  the  prize.  Eva  places  the  crown  of  laurel  on  his 
head,  and  with  him  kneels  before  the  well-pleased 
Pogner.  But  when  he  would  hang  around  Walther's 
neck  the  insignia  of  a  mastersinger  the  youth  refuses 
it.  Sachs  again  intervenes  and  reads  the  young 
knight  a  little  lecture  on  the  importance  of  honouring 
what  is  established  in  art.  Walther  yields;  Eva  places 
the  laurel  on  Sachs's  brow,  and  the  curtain  falls  as  the 
people  acclaim  him  in  joyful  chorus. 

In  a  letter  to  Dr.  Franz  Brendel,  dated  Aug.  10, 
1862,  Liszt  quoted  a  part  of  a  letter  from  his  daughter, 
Cosima,  then  the  wife  of  Von  Biilow,     She  said  : 

"  These  '  Meistersinger'  are,  to  Wagner's  other  conceptions,  much 
the  same  as  the  '  Winter's  Tale  '  is  to  Shakespeare's  otlier  works.     Its 


342  Richard  Wagner 

phantasy  is  found  in  gaiety  and  drollery,  and  it  has  called  up  the 
Nuremberg  of  the  Middle  Ages,  with  its  guilds,  its  poet-artisans,  its 
pedants,  its  cavaliers,  to  draw  forth  the  most  fresh  laughter  in  the 
midst  of  the  highest,  most  ideal  poetry.  Exclusive  of  its  sense  and 
the  destination  of  the  work,  one  might  compare  the  artistic  work  of  it 
with  that  of  the  Sacraments-Hauschen  of  St.  Lawrence  (at  Nuremberg). 
Equally  with  the  sculptor  has  the  composer  lighted  upon  the  most 
graceful,  most  fantastic,  most  pure  form — boldness  in  perfection  ;  and 
as  at  the  bottom  of  the  Sacraments-Hauschen  there  is  Adam  Kraft, 
holding  it  up  with  a  grave  and  collected  air,  so  in  the  '  Meistersinger ' 
there  is  Hans  Sachs,  calm,  profound,  serene,  who  sustains  and  directs 
the  action.'' 

This  charming  critical  view  of  the  work  from  the 
woman  who  was  afterward  to  be  the  sharer  of  Wag- 
ner's joys  and  labours  is  so  apt  that,  although  this  is 
not  a  book  of  criticism,  but  rather  of  exposition,  I 
give  it  place  with  pleasure.  As  a  picture  of  the 
pseudo-artistic  life  and  influence  of  the  mastersingers 
the  work,  as  genuine  and  great  a  comic  opera  as  "  Le 
Nozze  di  Figaro,"  is  perfect.  Louis  Ehlert,  in  one  of 
his  pregnant  essays,  has  disclosed  a  belief  that  Wag- 
ner was  not  a  natural  humourist,  and  that  the  fun  of 
"  Die  Meistersinger "  is  laboured.  This  is  a  somewhat 
severe  judgment,  founded  chiefly  upon  observation  of 
the  character  of  Beckmesser.  The  unfortunate  Marker 
is,  indeed,  a  somewhat  artificial  figure,  but  much  de- 
pends upon  his  impersonator.  He  may  be  made  a 
burlesque  by  very  slight  overaccentuation  of  his 
peculiarities,  and  the  temptation  to  gain  the  applause 
and  laughter  of  the  unthinking  is  too  strong  for  any 
but  a  great  artist.  The  true  humour  of  "  Die  Meister- 
singer "  lies  in  its  presentation  of  the  shallow,  pedantic, 
poetic  art  of  the  time,  the  futile  methods  of  the  tri- 
bunal, the  homely  bourgeois  life,  the  quaint  pageantry 


Die  Meistersinger  von  Niirnberg    343 

of  the  guilds,  and  the  pretty  plot  by  which  Sachs  over- 
throws the  vainglorious  pretender  to  the  hand  of  Eva, 
and  smooths  the  path  of  true  love. 

Behind  this  delightful  comedy  there  lies  a  symbol- 
ism which  should  not  be  overlooked.  The  masters 
represent  the  tyranny  of  formalism  in  art,  the  domin- 
ance of  that  opinion  which  mistakes  form  for  sub- 
stance, and  attributes  to  the  outward  shape  of  every 
work  the  credit  for  its  merit.  Walther  von  Stolzing, 
in  his  efforts  as  poet  and  singer,  is  the  embodiment  of 
the  free  impulse,  the  desire  for  untrammelled  expres- 
sion. Sachs,  without  the  creative  power  of  the  young 
knight,  is  the  truer  artist.  He  represents  the  influence 
of  enlightened  and  sympathetic  intelligence.  He  dis- 
cerns at  once  the  innate  power  of  the  new  poesy 
which  Walther  brings  into  the  dusty  circle  of  masters, 
but  at  the  same  time  he  perceives  its  need  of  discipline. 
It  is  he,  therefore,  who  induces  the  new  genius  to 
submit  itself  to  the  sovereignty  of  the  fundamental 
laws  of  form — a  vastly  different  thing  from  practising 
mere  formalism. 

Students  of  Wagner's  works  have  often  been  invited 
to  accept  Walther  as  a  representative  of  Wagner  him- 
self. This  is  not  justified  by  anything  in  the  work  or 
in  the  other  writings  of  its  creator.  Nevertheless  we 
have  ground,  and  the  support  of  Wagner,  for  the  as- 
sumption that  he  really  designed  Walther  to  represent 
the  spirit  of  progress  in  music,  while  the  masters  em- 
bodied that  of  pure  pedantry.  Those  two  powers 
have  always  been  at  war  in  the  world  of  art  and 
always  will.  Theoreticians  and  critics  publish  rules, 
which  they  deduce  from  the  practice  of  the  great 
artists.     The   next    original  genius  who   arrives  has 


344 


Richard  Wagner 


something  new  to  say  and  says  it  in  a  new  way.  He 
throws  overboard  some  of  the  old  formulas  and  in- 
vents new  ones,  as  Wagner  did,  and  the  theoretical 
and  critical  world  bursts  into  an  outcry  of  indignation 
at  the  disturbance  of  settled  principles.  After  a  time 
the  two  forces  become  reconciled,  and  the  new  rules 
find  their  way  into  the  theoretical  treatises,  while  the 
critics  descant  upon  the  additional  flexibility  imparted 
by  them  to  art.  Wagner,  in  'Die  Meistersinger," 
has  shown  us  the  spirit  of  progress  in  its  jubilant 
youth,  scoffing  at  the  established  rules  of  which  it  is 
ignorant.  One  of  the  finest  lessons  of  the  symbolism 
of  the  comedy  is  that  a  musician,  or  any  other  artist, 
must  master  what  has  already  been  learned  of  his  art 
before  he  can  advance  beyond  it. 

The  musical  plan  of  '"  Die  Meistersinger"  embraces 
such  a  wealth  of  detail  that  a  complete  exposition  of 
it  would  consist  of  a  full  analysis  of  the  score.  There 
are  many  leading  motives,  and  these  are  repeated  or 
developed  with  all  of  the  wonderful  skill  which  was 
at  Wagner's  command  when  he  undertook  this  work. 
While  impracticable  to  give  an  exhaustive  analysis  of 
the  score,  it  is  not  too  much  to  invite  the  reader  to  ob- 
serve the  general  musical  development  of  the  drama. 
The  prelude  contains  several  of  the  most  important 
thematic  ideas,  and  these  we  may  first  consider.  The 
Vorspiel  begins  with  the  Meistersinger  motive: 

THE  MEISTERSINGERS. 


Die  Meistersinger  von  Nurnberg     345 


I. on 


A  few  measures  further  on  appears  the  Meister- 
singers'  march: 


THE  MASTERS'  MARCH. 
Trumpets  and  Harp. 


These  two  themes,  with  their  solidity,  breadth, 
dignity,  and  formality,  serve  admirably  to  present  all 
the  best  musical  elements  of  an  art  which  embodied 
the  glorification  of  rule  and  the  potency  of  tradition. 
The  second  theme  has  a  special  interest  for  us  because 
Wagner  built  it  on  the  beginning  of  a  genuine  Meister- 
singer tune  (the  "long  tone"  of  Heinrich  Muglin). 
This  tune  begins  thus  : 


Throughout  the  drama  these  Meistersinger  themes 
are  employed  by  Wagner  to  typify  the  art  represented 
by  his  masters,  and,  as  Mr.  Krehbiel  has  very  pertin- 
ently pointed  out,  their  majesty  and  musical  beauty 
are  satisfactory  evidence  that  the  composer  did  not 
wish  us  to  undervalue  the  artistic  movement  of  which 
they  are  typical.  Opposed  to  these  themes  we  hear 
in  the  Vorspiel  others  associated  with  the  uprising  of 


346 


Richard  Wagner 


emotion,  of  passion  in  the  young  lovers  of  the  play. 
These  themes,  irregular  in  rhythm,  restless  in  general 
style,  breathe  the  leaping  aspirations  of  the  romantic 
personages,  and  thus  embody  the  romantic  principles 
which  are  constantly  urging  progress  in  art.  The 
first  of  these  is  a  theme  designed  to  express  Walther's 
artistic  emotion  and  its  search  for  expression  : 

WALTHER'S  EMOTION. 


The  second  embodies  the  young  knight's  love  and 
its  longing,  and  thus  becomes  the  property  also  of  Eva  : 


YEARNING  OF  LOVE. 


■mr;m    J    m *^ ^—m »— — l^^^^-— +- 


C_/   'S  P^— P 


Two  other  themes  must  here  be  noted,  that  of  the 
closing  passage  of  the  prize  song,  and  that  of  Spring. 
The  latter  is  employed  especially  to  designate  spring 
as  a  period  of  emotional  blossoming  rather  than  a 
mere  season.  It  is  the  springtime  of  Walther's  life 
and  passion  and  song: 

PRIZE  SONG. 


Die  Meistersinger  von  Niirnberg     347 

To  these  themes  must  be  added  that  of  Derision, 
heard  in  the  last  act,  when  the  people  are  amazed  at 
the  appearance  of  Beckmesser  as  a  contestant: 

DERISION. 


^^ -Sr   m    ^     


Out  of  this  material  the  prelude  is  built,  and  its 
character  is  that  of  a  contest  of  forces  with  a  final  re- 
conciliation, which  is,  as  we  have  seen,  the  basis  of 
the  artistic  symbolism  of  the  comedy. 

The  first  act  begins  with  a  chorale,  in  which  the 
old-fashioned  style  of  writing  is  exhibited.  As  the 
congregation  disperses,  Eva  and  Walther  enter  into 
eager  converse,  and  the  themes  of  Emotion  and  Spring 
are  heard.  And  here  I  must  ask  the  reader  to  note  the 
wonderful  use  Wagner  has  made  of  this  sequence  of 
tones  : 


By  a  very  simple  change  the  first  three  tones  are 
altered  to  those  of  the  Spring  motive  or  the  closing 
strain  of  the  prize  song.  It  is  by  such  logical  musi- 
cal processes  that  Wagner  makes  the  development  of 
his  dramas  so  artistic  and  so  convincing,  while  at  the 
same  time  he  fascinates  the  ear  by  the  purely  sensuous 
beauty  of  the  varying  melodies.  The  Spring  theme 
plays  a  most  important  part  in  the  score,  and  it  is 
worthy  of  note  that  it  is  so  pregnant  with  meanings 
that  whether  played  fast  or  very  slowly  it  is  eloquent, 
though  with  a  difference.  Note,  if  you  will,  the  ex- 
traordinary force  with  which  it  sings  from  the  or- 
chestra  when    Sachs's   mind,  in  the  second  act,   is 


348 


Richard  Wagner 


ruminating  on  the  events  of  the  trial  and  cannot  free 
itself  of  the  influence  of  Walther's  song.  But  to  pro- 
ceed with  the  first  act:  After  the  scene  of  the  lovers, 
with  the  entrance  of  David,  we  begin  to  hear  lively, 
rhythmic  melodies,  associated  with  the  youth  and 
gaiety  of  the  apprentices.  A  portion  of  this  music 
signifies  the  chastisement  afflicted  upon  an  apprentice 
by  a  master,  and  appears  several  times  in  the  score  to 
call  attention  to  Sachs's  repression  of  David  : 

CHASTISEMENT. 


3fc 


^3^ 


':ptz 


When  David  tells  Walther  of  the  art  of  a  master- 
singer  we  hear  the  lovely  theme  of  the  Art  of  Song, 
plainly  enough  a  variant  of  the  melodic  basis  of  the 
prize  song  : 

THE  ART  OF  SONG. 


All  of  the  music  of  David's  scene  with  Walther  is 
light  and  airy,  but  with  the  entrance  of  the  masters 
we  hear  serious  ideas  again,  the  first  of  them  being 
the  motive  of  the  Council  : 


THE  COUNCIL. 


The  second,  a  very  tender  and  gracious  theme,  is 
that  of  St.  John's  Day,  the  day  of  the  contest  for  Eva's 
hand,  and  it  is  developed  with  wonderful  eloquence 
in  the  address  of  Pogner: 


Die  Meistersinger  von  Niirnberg    349 


ST.  JOHN'S  DAY. 


P^ 


&c. 


When  Walther  appears,  we  hear  for  the  first  time 
the  theme  of  his  knighthood  : 


WALTHER,  THE  KNIGHT. 


I 


-^**»- 


P^ 


This  is  heard  frequently  in  the  score,  and  when 
Beckmesser,  acting  as  Marker,  shows  the  slate  covered 
with  notes  of  errors  in  Walther's  song,  this  theme  is 
heard  distorted  and  caricatured.  In  answer  to  Koth- 
ner's  inquiry  as  to  who  was  his  master,  Walther  sings 
the  lyric  "Am  stillen  Herd,"  and  its  second  phrase 
(marked  ^)  reveals  its  foundation  on  the  Spring  theme: 

"AM  STILLEN  HERD." 


55^ 


zatzzkc. 


The  subsequent  trial  song,  as  will  be  noted  at  a 
single  hearing,  throbs  throughout  with  the  Spring 
theme.  Note  the  fine  contrast  made  by  Kothner's 
formal  statement  of  the  laws  of  the  mastersong,  end- 
ing with  a  fine  vocal  exfoliation  in  the  old  style: 


The  act  comes  to  an  end  with  a  general  discussion 
among  the  masters,  while  Walther  vainly  endeavours 
to  make  himself  heard  and  the  apprentices  sing  a 
chorus  of  derision.  As  Sachs  remains  in  the  fore- 
ground, moved  by  the  new  music  which  he  has  heard, 


350 


Richard  Wagner 


we  hear  once  more  its  fundamental  phrase,  the  Spring 
motive. 

The  music  of  the  second  act  is  simplicity  itself  up  to 
the  dialogue  of  Pogner  and  Eva.  The  score  is  rich 
with  themes  already  made  known,  but  when  the 
father  tells  his  daughter  how  she  must  on  the  morrow 
make  her  choice  before  all  the  citizens,  we  hear  for  the 
first  time  a  peculiarly  lovely  motive  intended  to  desig- 
nate the  old  city  itself: 

NUREMBERG. 


Familiar  motives,  employed  to  make  a  mood-picture 
of  great  beauty,  illustrate  the  scene  between  Sachs 
and  Eva.  But  here,  indeed,  we  must  pause  to  note  the 
wonderful  expressiveness  of  the  monologue  of  Sachs, 
preceding  his  scene  with  Eva.  The  orchestral  part 
throbs  with  the  Spring  motive,  which  finally  swells 
into  a  broad  and  beautiful  cantilena.  The  lyric  of  the 
first  act  is  quoted  by  the  orchestra  also,  and  at 
length  Sachs  concludes  with  a  bit  of  new  melody  of 
his  own.  He,  too,  is  filled  with  the  spirit  of  the  new 
music: 


Die  Meistersinger  von  Niirnberg    351 


(« 


*=5=r 


Sachs     is  I 


tent  with  him   Hans 

■* . e- 


A  prominent  part  is  played  in  the  ensuing  scene  by 
the  tender  Eva  motive  : 

EVA. 


Walther's  entrance  brings  back  the  Knight  theme, 
and  others  which  have  been  heard  before.  The  music 
of  the  summer  night,  heard  when  the  watchman  is 
approaching,  is  very  beautiful,  and  its  return  at  the 
close  of  the  act,  punctuated  by  phrases  of  Beckmesser's 
serenade,  is  still  more  lovely.  A  fine  contrast  is  that 
between  Sachs's  uproarious  song,  which  is  thoroughly 
good  in  the  old  style,  and  that  of  Beckmesser,  which 
is  bad.  The  development  of  the  turmoil  in  the  street 
is  worked  out  with  immense  contrapuntal  skill,  and 
we  hear  in  the  midst  of  it  a  new  theme,  that  of  the 
Beating,  made  skilfully  out  of  the  fourths  used  in  the 
lute  accompaniment  to  the  Marker's  serenade  : 

THE  BEATING. 


352  Richard  Wagner 

The  gradual  building  up  of  the  turmoil  at  the  end  of 
the  act,  when  the  excited  people  pour  into  the  streets 
and  the  general  fighting  begins,  is  wonderfully 
worked  out  in  the  score,  in  which  the  Beating  motive 
plays  a  prominent  and  humorously  expressive  part. 
In  the  midst  of  the  rumpus,  the  horn  of  the  returning 
watchman  is  heard,  its  discord  making  a  fine  musical 
effect.  After  the  crowd  has  dispersed  and  the  watch- 
man has  repeated  his  droning  formula,  the  music  of 
the  summer  night,  as  I  have  already  mentioned,  steals 
back  in  an  ethereal  whisper,  and  the  act  comes  to  a 
close  with  one  of  those  beautiful  points  of  repose 
which  Wagner  knew  so  well  how  to  make  after  a 
movement  of  extreme  agitation. 

The  third  act  is  preceded  by  an  introduction  of 
wonderful  beauty  and  expressiveness.  With  the 
chorale  of  the  last  scene,  the  shoemaker  song  sung 
by  Sachs  in  the  second  act,  and  the  "  Wahn"  motive, 
the  composer  paints  for  us  the  very  soul  of  the  poet- 
cobbler.  The  "Wahn"  motive  is  that  on  which  is 
founded  the  great  monologue  of  this  act,  beginning 
with  the  words  "Wahn,  Wahn,  uberall  Wahn"  — 
"Madness,    madness,    everywhere   madness." 

"WAHN,  WAHN." 


f  dim. 

The  whole  scene  between  Sachs  and  Walther  is  sur- 
charged with  melody  of  the  most  luscious  kind,  and 
we  hear  the  beginning  of  Walther's  mastersong,  the 
song  which  finally  wins  for  him  the  prize: 


Die  Meistersinger  von  Niirnberg    353 


THE  MASTERSONG 

r         ,       \      .      .^          .      . 

^H=^5=] 

f'^^^^ir^ 

l-d — 1 — p^ 

n — :a 

-1 -j 

^z 

•^    p  dolce. 

^==r- 

/^f<j  cresc. 

1-^=^ 

r*- 

m-^-j-S- 

-sf— ' 

HH — '-i 

T<i 

^-f^^ — 

-f:-^ 

^1  >. 

bi  ■ ' 

4- 

The  music  accompanying  tine  entrance  of  tiie  sore  and 
limping  Beckmesser  is  filled  with  exquisite  humour, 
and  perhaps  in  it  all  there  is  nothing  more  subtle  than 
the  use  of  the  "Wahn"  motive  when  the  Marker, 
after  his  agitated  rush  about  the  room,  sits  on  the 
bench  and  vainly  strives  to  think  of  a  new  song. 

The  music  of  the  scene  following  Eva's  entrance  is 
built  on  familiar  motives,  whose  significance  here  is 
easily  traced,  and  the  quintette,  as  will  be  noted  at  the 
first  hearing,  is  made  from  the  prize  song.  The  recit- 
ation of  Sachs  preceding  the  quintette  is  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  passages  in  the  opera,  but  it  is  unces- 
sary  to  think  of  it  as  built  of  motives.  The  last 
scene  opens  with  much  freely  composed  music,  the 
entrance  of  the  guilds  and  the  dance.  With  the  ad- 
vent of  the  masters  we  return  to  the  dignified  music 
associated  with  them.  The  rest  of  the  scene  is  sim- 
ple. The  people  sing  the  beautiful  chorale,  "Wach' 
auf,"  Beckmesser  makes  his  foolish  attempt  to  sing 
Walther's  words  to  the  tune  of  his  own  serenade,  and 
then  Walther  sings  the  song  as  it  ought  to  be  sung, 
slightly  altering  the  "Abgesang"  in  his  fresh  in- 
spiration. 

The  principal  characteristic  of  the  music  of  "Die 
Meistersinger"  is  its  lyric  quality.  There  are  no  tragic 
passions    to    be    depicted,    no  evil    thoughts   to    be 


354  Richard  Wagner 

expressed.  Beckmesser  alone  has  malice,  and  that  is  of 
a  petty,  foolish  sort,  best  treated,  as  it  is  in  this  ex- 
quisite work,  with  ridicule.  The  other  personages 
are  all  lovable;  the  motives  all  kindly.  The  under- 
lying elements  which  are  in  contest,  the  opposing 
principles,  whose  workings  make  the  ethical  basis  of 
the  drama,  are  artistic,  the  old  against  the  new,  the 
formal  against  the  free.  The  expression  of  each  must 
of  necessity  be  lyric,  the  one  in  well-regulated 
rhythms,  the  other  in  rushing  bursts  of  apparently 
spontaneous  melody.  But  the  total  result  is  one  great 
spring  ode,  throbbing  with  the  very  heart-beats  of 
young  poesy  and  song,  and  sure  at  all  times  and  in  all 
places  to  capivate  those  who  have  ears  to  hear  and 
souls  to  understand. 


DER   RING  DES  NIBELUNGEN 

A  Stage  Festival  Play 

for 

Three  Days  and  One  Preliminary  Evening. 

First  performed  in  its  entirety  at  Bayreuth,  August, 
1876;  Munich,  1878;  Vienna,  Leipsic,  1879;  Hamburg, 
1880;  Berlin,  1881;  London,  Konigsberg,  Hanover, 
Danzig,  Breslau,  Bremen,  Barmen,  1882;  New  York, 
Metropolitan  Opera  House,  March  4,  5,  8  and  11, 
1889. 


355 


DAS  RHEINGOLD 

Prologue  to  "  Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen." 

First  performed  at  the  Royal  Court  Theatre,  Munich, 
September  22,  1869. 


Original  Cast. 

Wotan Kindermann 

Donner 

.  Heinrich 

Froh 

Nachbaur 

Loge 
Alberich 

•        Vogl. 
.    Fischer. 

Mime 

Schlosser 

Fasolt 

Polzer 

Fafner 

Bausewein 

Fricka 

Fraulein  Stehle 

Freia 

Fraulein  Mullen 

Erda 

Fraulein  Seehofer. 

Woglinde 

Wellgunde 

Flosshilde 

• 

Frau  Vogel. 
Fraulein  Ritter 

This  performance  was  against  the  wish  of  Wagner. 
The  first  authorised  performance  was  that  at  the 
Festspielhaus,  Bayreuth,  August  13,  1876,  when  the 
cast  was  as  follows: 


Wotan 
Donner 
Froh 


Franz  Betz. 

Eugen  Gura. 

Georg  Unger. 


356 


Das  Rheingold 


357 


Loge 

Alberich 

Mime 

Fasolt 

Fafner 

Fricka 

Freia 

Erda 

Woglinde 

Wellgunde 

Flosshilde 


.     Heinrich  Vogel. 
.       Carl  Hill. 
Carl  Schlosser. 
Albert  Filers. 
Franz  von  Reichenberg. 
Friedericke  Grun. 
Marie  Haupt. 
.  Luise  Jiiide. 
Lilli  Lehmann. 
.    Marie  Lehmann. 
.    Marie  Lammert. 


Weimar,  Vienna,  Leipsic,  Hamburg,  Brunswick, 
1878;  Mannheim,  Cologne,  1879;  Frankfort,  London, 
1882. 

First  performed  in  America  at  the  Metropolitan 
Opera  House,  New  York,  Jan.  4,  1889. 

Cast. 


Wotan 

.     Emil  Fischer 

Donner 

. 

Alois  Grienauer 

Froh  . 

.  Albert  Mittelhauser 

Loge 

Max  Alvary 

Alberich     . 

.     Joseph  Beck 

Mime 

Wilhelm  Sedlmayer. 

Fasolt 

.    Ludwig  Modlinger 

Fafner 

.    Eugen  Weiss. 

Fricka 

Fanny  Moran-Olden. 

Freia 

Katti  Bettaque 

Erda 

Hedwig  Reil. 

Woglinde 

.    Sophie  Traubmann 

Wellgunde 

Felice  Koschoska. 

Flosshilde 

Hedwig  ReiL 

C( 

inductor,  j 

\nton  Seidl. 

DIE  WALKORE 

Music  Drama  in  Tiiree  Acts. 

First  evening  of  the  trilogy,   "  Der  Ring  des  Nibe- 
lungen." 

First  performed  at  the  Royal  Court  Theatre  in  Mu- 
nich, contrary  to  the  author's  wish,  on  Aug.  26, 1870. 


Original  Cast. 

Siegmund    . 

VogI 

Hunding 

Bausewein 

Wotan 

Kindermann 

Sieglinde 

Frau  Vogl 

Brunnhilde  . 

Fraulein  Stehle 

Fricka 

Fraulein  Kaufmann 

First  authorised  performance  in  the  Festspielhaus  at 
Bayreuth,  Aug.  14,  1876. 


Original  Bayreuth  Cast. 

Siegmund 

Albert  Niemann 

Hunding 

Joseph  Niering 

Wotan 

Franz  Betz 

Sieglinde 

Josephine  Scheffsky 

Fricka 

Friedericke  Grun 

Brunnhilde 

Amalia  Friedrich-Materna 

Gerhilde 

.    Marie  Haupt 
358 

Die  Walkiire 


359 


Ortlinde 

Waltraute  . 
Schwertleite 
Helmwige  . 
Siegrune 
Grimgerde  . 
Rossweisse 


Marie  Lehmann. 

Luise  Jaide. 

Johanna  Jachmann-Wagner. 

Lilli  Lehmann. 

Antoinie  Amann. 

Hedwig  Reicher-Kindermann. 

Minna  Lammert. 


Vienna,  New  York,  1877  ;  Rotterdam,  Leipsic, 
Hamburg,  Schwerin,  1878  ;  Weimar,  Mannheim, 
Cologne,  Brunswick,  1879  ;  Konigsberg,  Frankfort, 
1882. 

First  performed  in  America  at  the  Academy  of  Music, 
New  York,  April  2,  1877. 

Cast. 


Siegmund 

Mr. 

Bischoff. 

Hunding 

Mr.  Blum. 

Wotan 

Mr. 

Preusser. 

Sieglinde 

Mile. 

Canissa. 

Fricka 

Mme 

Listner. 

Brunnhilde 

Mme.  Pappenheim, 

Cond 

uctor. 

Ado 

IfNei 

iendc 

rff. 

SIEGFRIED 

Music  Drama  in  Three  Acts. 

Second  evening  of  tlie  trilogy,  "Der  Ring  des  Nibe- 
lungen. 

First    performed   at  the    Festspielhaus,    Bayreuth, 
August  i6,  1876. 


Original  Cast. 

The  Wanderer 

Franz  Betz. 

Siegfried 

George  Unger. 

Alberich 

Carl  Hill. 

Mime  . 

. 

Carl  Schlosser. 

Fafner 

.    Franz 

von  Reichenberg. 

Brunnhilde  . 

Amalia 

Friedrich-Materna. 

Erda    . 

. 

Luise  Jiiide. 

Forest  Bird  . 

. 

Lilli  Lehmann. 

Hamburg,  Vienna,  Munich,  Leipsic,  1878;  Schwerin, 
Brunswick,  1879;  Cologne,  1880. 

First  performed  in  America  at  the  Metropolitan  Opera 
House,  New  York,  Nov.  9,  1887. 


Wanderer 

Siegfried 

Alberich 


Cast. 


360 


.    Emil  Fischer. 

Max  Alvary. 

.  Rudolph  von  Milde. 


Siegfried 


361 


Mime 

Herr  Ferency. 

Fafner 

.    Johannes  Elmbiad. 

Brunnhilde  . 

Lilli  Lehmann. 

Erda    . 

Marianne  Brandt. 

Forest  Bird 

Auguste  Seidl-Kraus. 

Conductor,  Anton  Seidl. 

GOTTERDAMMERUNG 


Music  Drama  in  Three  Acts. 

Third  evening  of  the  trilogy,   "Der  Ring  des  Nibe- 
lungen." 

First  performed  at  the   Festspielhaus  in  Bayreuth, 
August  17,  1876. 


Siegfried 

Gunther 

Hagen 

Alberich 

Briinnhilde 

Gutrune 

Waltraute 


The  Three  Norns 


The  Rheindaughters 


Original  Cast. 

George  Unger. 
.     Eugen  Gura. 
.    Gustav  Siehr. 
Car!  Hill. 
Amalia  Friedrich-Materna. 
Mathilde  Weckerlin. 
Luise  Jaide. 
Johanna  Jachmann-Wagner. 
Josephine  ScheflFsky. 
Friedericke  Grun. 
Lilli  Lehmann. 
Marie  Lehmann. 
Minna  Lammert. 
Munich,   Leipsic,   1878  ;  Vienna,  Hamburg,  Bruns- 
wick, 1879;  Cologne,  1882. 

First  performed  in  America  at  the  Metropolitan  Opera 
House,  New  York,  Jan.  2S,  1888. 

362 


Gotterdammerung 


363 


Cast, 

Siegfried Albert  Niemann. 

Guntiier Adolf  Robinson. 

Hagen Emil  Fischer. 

Alberich       ....  Rudolph  von  Milde. 

Brunnhilde Lilli  Lehmann. 

Gutrune       ....        Auguste  Seidl-Kraus. 
Woglinde    ....  Sophie  Traubmann. 

Wellgunde Marianne  Brandt. 

Flosshilde Louise  Meisslinger. 

Conductor,  Anton  Seidl. 

(The  Waltraute  and  Norn  scenes  were  omitted. 
They  were  first  given  at  the  Metropolitan  on  January 
24,  1899,  when  Mme.  Schumann-Heink  was  the  Wal- 
traute, and  also  one  of  the  Norns.  The  others  were 
Olga  Pevny  and  Louise  Meisslinger.  "Der  Ring  des 
Nibelungen  "  was  first  performed  without  cuts  at  the 
Metropolitan  on  January  12,  17,  19,  and  24,  1899.) 


DER  RING  DES  NIBELUNGEN 

I. — The  Sources  of  the  Poems 

The  gigantic  tetralogy  of  Wagner  must  be  studied 
as  a  single  opus,  for  such  indeed  it  is.  A  poem  in 
four  cantos,  a  dramatic  sequence  after  the  manner  of 
the  Greeks,  it  is  the  story  of  a  single  action,  a  single 
crime  and  its  tragic  atonement.  What  that  story  is 
we  shall  presently  see.  How  Wagner  conceived  and 
created  his  new  and  wonderful  version  of  the  Norse 
mythology,  the  Volsunga  Saga,  and  the  "  Niebelungen 
Lied,"  is  what  must  first  occupy  our  attention.  Wag- 
ner's first  mention  of  this  work  is  found  in  a  letter  to 
Liszt,  written  in  June,  1849,  when  he  announces  his 
intention  of  setting  to  music  his  "latest  German 
drama,  the  'Death  of  Siegfried.'"  This  drama  em- 
bodied that  part  of  the  story  now  told  in  "  Gotter- 
diimmerung,"  and  in  the  composition  of  it  Wagner 
found  that  the  necessary  explanations  of  the  incidents 
leading  up  to  the  story  quickly  became  too  long  and 
complex.  He  decided  that  he  must  write  a  prefatory 
drama  on  the  story  of  the  young  Siegfried,  and  in  do- 
ing this  he  found  himself  involved  again  in  explana- 
tory difficulties.  Thus  he  finally  decided  to  make 
a  trilogy  with  a  prologue.  In  a  long  letter  of  Nov. 
20,  185 1,  to  Liszt  he  explains  how  the  completed  form 
of  "  Der  Ring"  came  into  existence. 

364 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        365 

The  books  of  "  Das  Rheingold  "  and  "  Die  Walkure  " 
were  finished  in  the  first  week  of  November,  1852. 
He  then  set  about  reconstructing  the  other  two,  already 
written,  but  now  in  need  of  extensive  alterations. 
The  story  of  the  completion  of  the  poem  in  its  new 
form  and  the  beginning  of  the  music  has  already  been 
told  in  the  biographical  part  of  this  work.  It  is  neces- 
sary only  to  recapitulate  here  that  the  text  was  fin- 
ished in  1853.  The  music  of  "Rheingold"  was 
begun  in  the  autumn  of  1853  at  Spezzia,  and  finished  in 
January,  1854.  He  wrote  to  Liszt  on  Jan.  14:  "I  went 
to  this  music  with  so  much  faith,  so  much  joy;  and 
with  a  true  fury  of  despair  I  continued,  and  have  at 
last  finished  it."  The  music  of  "Die  Walkure"  was 
begun  in  June,  1854,  and  finished  late  in  the  same 
year.  The  instrumentation  was  commenced  with 
the  opening  of  the  following  year.  Then  came  the 
visit  to  London,  where  the  score  of  the  first  act  was 
completed  in  April.  The  score  of  the  first  two  acts 
was  sent  to  Liszt  on  Oct.  3.  Wagner  having  been 
delayed  in  the  work  by  many  distractions  and  by 
mental  depression,  it  was  not  till  the  ensuing  year 
that  the  score  was  wholly  written. 

The  music  of  "Siegfried"  was  begun  in  1857,  and 
the  first  act  was  finished  in  April  of  that  year.  The 
second  act  was  begun,  and  then  came  the  interrup- 
tion caused  by  Wagner's  eagerness  to  return  to  active 
touch  with  the  stage,  his  pressing  need  of  money,  and 
his  fear  that  he  would  not  live  to  complete  his  gigan- 
tic undertaking.  This  second  act,  therefore,  was  not 
completed  till  June  21,  1865,  at  Munich,  "Tristan 
und  Isolde  "  having  been  written  in  the  meantime. 
The  third  act  was  finished  early  in  1869.     The  music 


366  Richard  Wagner 

of  "Gotterdammerung "  was  begun  at  Lucerne  in 
1870,  and  completed  at  Bayreuth  in  November,  1874. 
Tlie  point  at  which  the  woric  on  this  tetralogy  was 
suspended  for  that  on  "  Tristan  und  Isolde"  is  desig- 
nated in  a  letter  to  Liszt,  dated  May  8,  1857.  Wagner 
says:  "  1  have  led  my  young  Siegfried  to  a  beautiful 
forest  solitude,  and  there  have  left  him  under  a  linden 
tree,  and  taken  leave  of  him  with  heartfelt  tears. 
He  will  be  better  off  there  than  elsewhere." 

Just  how  Wagner  came  to  take  up  the  subject  of 
Siegfried's  death  is  not  known.  A  recent  German 
writer  in  one  of  the  Munich  newspapers  has  asserted 
that  the  suggestion  came  from  Minna,  his  first  wife. 
This  assertion  is  in  line  with  the  belief  of  many 
that  Minna  was  more  sinned  against  than  sinning, 
and  that  Wagner's  complaints  of  her  inability  to  un- 
derstand him  were  intended  to  divert  suspicion  from 
the  real  causes  of  the  troubles  between  them.  It 
seems  hardly  likely,  however,  that  a  woman  of  Minna's 
simple  character  would  have  conceived  the  availability 
of  the  Siegfried  legend  for  Wagner's  ideal  music 
drama.  The  fact  that  Siegfried  had  for  centuries  been 
the  popular  mythical  hero  of  the  German  people  and 
that  his  deeds  and  personality  had  constituted  most  of 
the  materials  of  one  of  the  great  mediaeval  German 
epics,  the  "  Nibelungen  Lied,"  seems  sufficient  to  have 
attracted  the  attention  of  the  master  to  the  subject. 
He  himself  says  in  his  "Communication"  that  even 
while  he  was  at  work  on  "Lohengrin"  he  was  de- 
bating which  of  two  subjects,  "Friedrich  Barbarossa" 
or  "Siegfried,"  he  should  take  up  next.     He  adds: 

"Once  again  and  for  the  last  time  did  myth  and 
history  stand  before  me  with  opposing  claims;  this 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        367 

while  as  good  as  forcing  me  to  decide  whether  it  was 
a  musical  drama  or  a  spoken  play  that  I  had  to 
write." 

It  was  with  the  decision  to  utilise  only  mythical 
subjects  for  his  serious  dramas  that  he  concluded  to 
lay  aside  "  Barbarossa  "  and  work  upon  "The  Death 
of  Siegfried."  This  poem  in  its  original  form  is  in- 
cluded in  the  collected  writings  of  Wagner,  and  is 
interesting  as  being  the  first  attempt  of  Wagner  to 
embody  the  legendary  tragedy  in  a  drama.  A  reading 
of  it  will  show  clearly  why  he  was  obliged  to  write 
three  other  dramas  to  lead  up  to  this  one  and  make 
its  meaning  comprehensible.  In  working  out  the 
plan  as  a  whole  he  selected  and  utilised  with  his  cus- 
tomary skill  the  salient  points  of  the  Norse  and  Ger- 
man forms  of  the  story,  and  he  found  more  suitable 
material  in  the  sagas  than  in  the  German  epic.  And 
out  of  the  Northern  mythology,  so  beautifully  stored 
in  the  sagas,  he  evolved  those  ethical  features  which 
raise  "  Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen  "  to  a  position  beside 
the  great  Greek  tragedies  of  antiquity. 

We  must  study  these  dramas  chiefly  by  tracing 
their  sources  and  showing  how  Wagner  utilised  his 
materials.  He  himself  wrote  an  article  entitled  "The 
Nibelungen  Myth  as  Material  for  a  Drama,"  and  in  it 
may  be  found  the  germinal  form  of  the  entire  story 
as  it  first  took  cognisable  existence  in  his  mind.  In 
its  completed  shape,  however,  it  differs  from  this 
embryonic  outline  in  many  particulars. 

First,  then,  the  age  of  the  legends  upon  which 
these  dramas  are  founded  is  not  so  great  as  might  ap- 
pear from  their  mythological  nature,  and  that  will  ex- 
plain some  of  their  curiosities.     We  are  prone,  when 


368  Richard  Wagner 

watching  the  actions  of  Wagner's  gods,  to  think  that 
these  stories  date  from  the  antique  age  of  fable,  but 
the  truth  is  that  they  came  into  existence  in  the  mod- 
ern age  of  fable,  the  early  centuries  of  the  Christian 
era.  Furthermore,  although  Wagner  has  used  chiefly 
the  Norse  forms  of  the  materials,  the  great  Siegfried 
legend  was  originally  the  production  of  the  German 
people.  The  Scandinavian  bards  obtained  some  of 
their  ideas  from  Germany,  and  thus  came  about  the 
strange  mingling  of  Norse  mythology  and  Teutonic 
fable. 

When  the  dominion  of  Rome  in  the  west  of 
Europe  was  overthrown  in  476  a.d.,  the  Teutonic 
race  occupied  the  country  from  the  banks  of  the 
Rhine  and  the  Danube  to  the  coasts  of  Norway.  The 
invaders  who  settled  in  the  southern  provinces  of 
Europe  soon  lost  their  distinctive  speech.  But  in 
Germany  and  Scandinavia  the  old  tongues  remained, 
and  consequently  poetic  recitation,  the  custom  of  long 
centuries,  continued,  Tacitus  tells  us  that  the  people 
of  these  northern  lands  were  accustomed  to  store 
their  history  in  rhyming  chronicles  repeated  by  the 
bards.  It  was  not  till  the  reign  of  the  wise  and 
heroic  Charlemagne  (742-814)  that  these  chronicles 
were  collected.  Nothing  remains  of  the  collection 
which  he  made,  but  it  can  hardly  be  doubted  that 
some  of  the  materials  found  in  the  Siegfried  legend 
formed  part  of  the  old  stories  of  the  bards,  for  it  has 
been  traced  back  as  far  as  the  sixth  century,  when  its 
germs  were  recognisable.  In  the  first  preserved  form 
of  the  story  of  this  hero's  exploits  we  find  recorded 
the  fabulous  history  of  times  not  Vv'idely  separated 
from  those  of  the  conquest  of  Rome's  western  em- 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        369 

pire,  for  in  the  sixth  century  appeared  in  tradition  the 
names  not  only  of  Siegfried  and  Dietrich  von  Bern, 
but  Theodoric  the  Great  and  Attila. 

This  first  preserved  form  of  the  legend  is  called  the 
"  Heldenbuch  "  ("  Book  of  Heroes  ").  In  its  present 
shape  it  dates  from  the  latter  part  of  the  twelfth  cent- 
ury, but  there  is  evidence  that  it  was  in  existence 
long  before  that  period.  It  is  a  collection  of  poems 
dealing  with  the  events  of  the  time  of  Attila  and  the 
incursions  of  the  German  nations  into  Rome.  The 
principal  personages  who  appear  in  this  book  are  : 
Etzel,  or  Attila  ;  Dietrich,  or  Theodoric  the  Great  ; 
Siegfried,  Gudrune,  Hagan,  and  others  who  reappear 
in  the  "Nibelungen  Lied."  The  period  of  the  events 
which  occur  in  the  Wagnerian  dramas  may  be  estim- 
ated by  the  formation  of  a  succession  of  incidents 
leading  back  to  Attila,  an  historical  personage  with  an 
established  date.  In  "The  Horny  Siegfried,"  one  of  the 
poems  of  the  "Heldenbuch,"  we  find  matter  which 
serves  as  a  prelude  to  the  "  Nibelungen  Lied."  In  this 
poem  Siegfried  appears  as  the  embodiment  of  manly 
heroism,  beauty,  and  virtue,  as  he  was  known  to 
Teutonic  song  and  story  for  centuries.  From  having 
bathed  in  the  blood  of  dragons  he  was  invulnerable 
except  in  one  spot,  between  the  shoulders,  on  which  a 
leaf  had  happened  to  fall.  Having  rescued  the  beauti- 
ful Chriemhild  from  dragons  (or  a  giant)  and  obtained 
possession  of  the  treasures  of  the  dwarfs,  he  returns 
her  to  her  father.  King  of  Wurms,  and  then  marries 
her. 

The  "Nibelungen  Lied  "  identifies  Chriemhild  as  the 
sister  of  Gunther,  the  Gutrune  of  Wagner's  version. 
Chriemhild,  in  order  to  obtain  revenge  for  the  treachery 


370  Richard  Wagner 

of  Siegfried  and  Brunnhilde,  which  I  shall  recount 
in  the  outline  of  the  "  Nibelungen  Lied,"  after  the 
death  of  the  former  marries  Attila.  It  was  twenty- 
six  years  after  the  death  of  Siegfried  when  she  carried 
out  her  plan  of  revenge.  How  long  this  was  before 
the  death  of  Attila  is  not  related,  but  we  know  that 
he  died  in  453  a.d.  He  is  supposed  to  have  been 
born  about  406,  which  would  have  made  him  forty- 
seven  years  old  at  the  time  of  his  death.  It  was 
thirteen  years  after  her  marriage  to  Attila  when 
Chriemhild  accomplished  her  revenge.  Supposing 
that  Attila's  death  took  place  not  less  than  a  year  later, 
that  would  fix  the  date  of  the  marriage  at  439,  or 
when  this  busy  warrior  was  thirty-three  and  perhaps 
ready  to  rest,  and  that  of  the  revenge  at  452.  There- 
fore, as  the  "  Nibelungen  Lied  "  tells  us  that  the  death 
of  Siegfried  took  place  twenty-six  years  before  the 
accomplishment  of  the  revenge,  we  may  suppose 
that  the  hero  expired  in  426.  At  any  rate,  the  date 
of  his  death  must  have  been  in  the  early  part  of  the 
fifth  century.  And  equally,  therefore,  much  of  the 
supernatural  paraphernalia  of  "  Gotterdammerung  " 
belongs  to  the  store  of  fable  which  has  come  down 
from  that  period.  If  one  is  curious  to  establish  dates 
for  the  earlier  dramas  he  must  first  discover  how  long 
Siegfried  and  Brunnhilde  remained  together  on  the 
Valkyrs'  Hill  after  the  sleeping  beauty  was  awakened 
by  the  young  hero.  The  date  of  "Die  Walkure " 
would  be  some  twenty  or  twenty-two  years  earlier, 
for  in  the  last  scene  of  that  work  we  learn  that  Sieg- 
linde  is  to  become  his  mother.  As  for  "Das  Rhein- 
gold,"  that  must  be  left  to  conjecture  entirely. 

From     the     Heldenbiich     the    next     step    in    the 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        371 

German  versions  of  the  legend  carries  us  to  the 
"Nibelungen  Lied."  Here,  as  1  have  noted,  we  find 
Chriemhild  as  the  sister  of  Gunther.  Siegfried  has 
heard  of  her  beauty  and  determines  to  v^in  her  as  his 
bride.  But  all  his  efforts  are  in  vain.  Meanwhile,  to 
the  Court  news  comes  of  the  beautiful  Brunhild, 
Queen  of  Isenland,  a  woman  of  matchless  courage 
and  strength.  Every  suitor  for  her  hand  must  abide 
three  combats  with  her,  and  if  vanquished  is  put  to 
death.  Gunther  decides  to  try  to  win  her,  and  Sieg- 
fried accompanies  him  on  his  expedition,  with  the 
understanding  that  if  they  succeed  he  is  to  have 
Chriemhild  to  wife.  Arriving  at  the  Court  of  Brun- 
hild, Siegfried,  in  order  to  increase  respect  for  the 
standing  of  Gunther,  poses  as  his  friend's  vassal. 
The  combats  take  place,  and  Siegfried,  making  him- 
self invisible  by  the  aid  of  the  magic  cap  which  he 
obtained  from  the  dwarfs,  assists  Gunther  to  conquer 
the  Queen. 

Gunther  weds  Brunhild  and  Siegfried  marries 
Gutrune,  but  the  proud  Queen  of  Isenland  does  not 
relish  the  idea  of  having  for  a  sister-in-law  the  wife  of 
a  vassal.  Gunther  tells  her  that  Siegfried  is  a  Prince  in 
his  own  country,  but  she  disbelieves  her  spouse,  and 
to  punish  him  for  his  falsehood  denies  him  her  em- 
braces, binds  him  with  her  magic  girdle,  and  hangs 
him  on  a  nail.  Siegfried,  having  pity  on  Gunther, 
promises  to  deprive  Brunhild  of  the  girdle  and  make 
her  a  wife  in  fact  as  well  as  in  name.  So  on  the  fol- 
lowing night,  disguised  by  the  Tarnkappe,  he  takes 
Gunther's  place,  embraces  the  unwilling  Brunhild,  and 
carries  off  her  magic  girdle  and  her  ring.  Gutrune 
misses  Siegfried  from  the  chamber,  and  in  the  end  he 


372  Richard  Wagner 

is  compelled  to  explain  to  her.  He  foolishly  gives  her 
the  girdle  and  the  ring.  The  two  women  subsequently 
come  to  hot  words  on  a  question  of  precedence  in  en- 
tering a  church  (like  Elsa  and  Ortrud),  and  Chriem- 
hild  in  her  anger  charges  Brunhild  with  her  relations 
with  Siegfried,  producing  the  ring  as  evidence.  Then 
Brunhild,  discovering  the  deception  of  the  Tarnkappe, 
vows  vengeance,  in  the  attainment  of  which  Hagen 
aids  her.  Having  induced  Chriemhild  to  disclose  to 
him  the  mortal  spot  on  Siegfried's  body,  he  drives  a 
spear  into  it  and  slays  him.  It  is  to  secure  revenge  for 
this  murder  that  Chriemhild  marries  Attila. 

This  is  a  very  brief  and  imperfect  outline  of  the 
mighty  epic  of  mediaeval  Germany.  It  breathes  the 
spirit  of  mediaevalism,  and  it  contains  none  of  the 
mythological  features  which  appear  in  the  beautiful 
Scandinavian  version  of  the  story  of  Siegfried.  Yet  it 
has  certain  incidents  employed  by  Wagner  in  the 
dramas,  especially  in  "Gotterdiimmerung."  The  use 
of  the  Tarnhelm,  the  substitution  of  Siegfried  for  Gun- 
ther  in  the  wedding  chamber,  the  discovery  of  the 
deception  through  the  recognition  of  the  ring  by 
Brunnhilde,  and  the  slaying  of  Siegfried  by  Hagen's 
spear-thrust  in  the  back — all  appear  in  the  drama  in 
most  significant  forms. 

It  is  to  the  Norse  forms  of  the  legend,  however,  that 
we  must  turn  for  the  earlier  parts  of  Wagner's  story 
and  for  the  most  significant  features  of  the  undercur- 
rent of  ethical  thought.  This  version  in  its  oldest 
form  is  found  in  the  Eddas,  some  of  which  are  un- 
doubtedly of  great  antiquity.  Yet  in  these  poems  we 
meet  with  the  historic  name  of  Attila.  No  doubt 
many  deeds  performed  by  earlier  and  forgotten  heroes 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        373 

were  attributed  to  this  wonder-worker  of  the  early 
Middle  Ages,  and  in  this  way  he  became  a  sort  of 
composite  figure,  and  thus  was  thrust  into  the  later 
versions  of  the  Eddaic  tales.  All  the  other  personages 
in  the  story  are  mythical.  As  Mr.  Sparling  notes  in 
his  introduction  to  the  translation  of  the  Volsunga  Saga 
made  by  William  Morris  and  Eirikr  Magnusson,*  only 
fragments  of  the  Eddaic  poems  still  exist,  but  "ere 
they  perished  there  arose  from  them  a  saga,"  that  of 
the  race  of  Volsungs. 

How  old  the  original  Eddaic  stories  are  can  only  be 
conjectured.  When  the  Scando-Gothic  races  overran 
Europe  they  carried  at  least  the  germs  of  these  stories 
with  them,  but  no  man  knows  where  they  got  them. 
But  it  is  certain  that  the  northern  versions  of  the  Nibe- 
lung  tales,  as  known  to  us  now,  must  have  originated 
in  the  same  legends  as  the  ' '  Nibelungen  Lied. "  It  was 
not  until  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century  that 
the  collection  of  the  rhymed  Eddas  made  by  Saemund 
the  Wise  was  discovered,  and  the  prose  Eddas  of 
Snorre  Sturleson  (born  1178,  died  1224)  were  written 
a  century  later  than  these.  For  Saemund  the  Wise 
was  born  in  1056  and  died  in  1131,  and  therefore  the 
date  of  his  collection  of  the  rhymed  Eddas  is  not  much 
earlier  than  that  of  the  "Nibelungen  Lied."  Both  the 
Eddas  and  the  Lied  were  widely  diverging  branches 
of  an  old  trunk,  and  that  accounts  in  a  measure  for 
both  their  resemblances  and  their  differences.  The 
southern  version  is  more  adulterated  with  inexact  his- 
tory, while  the  northern  embodies  more  of  the  funda- 
mental religious  mythology  of  the  people. 

Far  away  in  the  snowy  fastnesses  of  Iceland  were 

*  London,  Walter  Scott,  1888. 


374  Richard  Wagner 

preserved  the  ancient  stories  of  the  hero  Sigurd  and 
the  heroine  Briinnhilde.  Even  to  this  day  these  stories 
are  sung  or  told  by  the  secluded  people  of  the  Faroe 
Islands.  Whence  did  they  procure  them  ?  From  the 
scattering  of  races,  which,  begun  according  to  religious 
history  at  the  end  of  the  flood,  continued  through  the 
Dark  Ages.  So  impressed  upon  the  imaginations  of 
the  wanderers  were  these  old  tales  that  they  connected 
historical  personages  with  the  actors  in  them,  not  only, 
as  we  have  seen,  by  attributing  fabulous  deeds  to  real 
beings,  but  by  tracing  the  descent  of  actual  persons 
from  those  of  mythical  nature.  For  example,  the  first 
King  of  Dublin  was  Olaf  the  White,  and,  according 
to  tradition,  he  was  the  son  of  Ingiald,  son  of  Thora, 
daughter  of  "  Sigurd  Snake-in~the-Eye,"  son  of  Ragnar 
Lodbrok  by  Aslaug,  daughter  of  Sigurd  by  Briinnhilde. 
And  the  widow  of  Olaf  was  one  of  the  settlers  of  Ice- 
land. It  was  in  the  ninth  century  that  Harold  Fairhair 
determined  to  conquer  all  Norway.  He  fought  also  in 
the  British  Isles,  and  after  a  long  and  bloody  struggle 
made  himself  master  of  Ireland  as  well  as  of  the 
northern  coasts.  Many  of  the  vanquished,  including 
Olaf's  widow,  took  refuge  in  the  western  islands,  and 
with  them  went  the  legends,  which  had  come  up  from 
the  Rhine  valley,  and  which,  safely  buried  in  the  fast- 
nesses of  Iceland  and  the  Faroes,  grew  into  the  sagas 
known  to  us  as  the  Elder  Eddas.  "There  also  shall 
we  escape  the  troubling  of  kings  and  scoundrels," 
says  the  Vatsdoelsaga.  In  their  security  they  made 
their  wondrous  songs. 

It  was  in  1643  that  Brynjolf  Sveinsson,  Bishop  of 
Skalholt,  discovered  the  manuscripts  of  Saemund  the 
Wise,  and  he  christened  them  the  "  Edda  Saemundar 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        375 

hinns  froda,"  or  "  Edda  of  Saemund  the  Wise."  The 
term  "Edda,"  which  is  Icelandic  for  "grandmother," 
had  been  applied  already  to  the  prose  tales  of  Sturle- 
son,  though  the  latter  are  of  later  origin  than  the 
former.  The  two  works  are  frequently  distinguished 
as  the  Elder  and  the  Younger  Edda.  The  Elder  is 
often  called  the  Poetic  Edda,  because  it  consists  chiefly 
of  songs,  while  the  Younger  is  often  named  the  Prose 
Edda.  The  first  part  of  the  Elder  Edda  gives  the 
mythology  of  the  North,  while  the  lays  of  the  heroes 
are  found  in  its  second  part.  One  of  the  translators 
of  the  Prose  Edda  has  described  it  as  a  sort  of  com- 
mentary on  the  Poetic  Edda.* 

The  poems  which  contain  the  story  of  Sigurd  and 
Brlinnhilde  are  a  portion  of  the  second  part  of  the 
Elder  Edda.  An  important  part,  recounting  the  story 
of  Sigurd's  life  from  his  meeting  with  Brunnhilde  to 
his  death,  has  been  lost,  and  for  that  part  of  the  tale 
we  are  compelled  to  go  to  the  Prose  Edda  and  the 
Volsunga  Saga.  In  the  second  part  of  his  Younger 
Edda,  Snorre  Sturleson  rehearsed  briefly  in  simple 
prose  the  story  of  Sigurd  the  Volsung,  which  in  the 
Elder  Edda  ran  through  several  poems,  forming  in  their 
natural  connection  an  epic  of  great  power.  As  one 
of  the  historians  of  Norse  literature  says: 

"The  sad  and  absorbing  story  here  narrated  was 
wonderfully  popular  throughout  the  ancient  Scandi- 
navian and  Teutonic  world,  and  it  is  impossible  to 

*For  the  substance  of  the  Elder  Edda  consult  "  Asgard  and  the 
Gods,"  by  Wagner  &  McDowall ;  London,  Swan,  Sonnenschein,  Le 
Bas  &  Lowrey,  1886.  For  the  Prose  Edda,  see  "  The  Younger  Edda," 
translated  by  R.  B.  Anderson,  Chicago;  Scott,  Foresman  &  Co., 
1897. 


376  Richard  Wagner 

say  for  how  many  centuries  these  great  tragic  ballads 
had  agitated  the  hearts  of  the  warlike  races  of  the 
North.  It  is  clear  that  Sigurd  and  Brynhilda,  with  all 
their  beauty,  noble  endowment,  and  sorrowful  his- 
tory, were  real  personages,  who  had  taken  powerful 
hold  on  the  popular  affections  in  the  most  ancient 
times,  and  had  come  down  from  age  to  age,  receiving 
fresh  incarnations  and  embellishments  from  the  popu- 
lar Scalds." 

It  is  possible  that  this  is  true,  but  the  original  his- 
tory of  the  personages  is  quite  lost.  The  story  told 
in  the  "  Skaldskaparmal,"  the  second  part  of  the 
Younger  Edda,  is  a  rehearsal  of  the  contents  of  the 
"Short  Lay  of  Sigurd,"  "The  Lay  of  Fafner,"  and 
one  or  two  others  in  the  Elder  Edda  bearing  on  the 
Volsung  tale.  Wagner  has  utilised  certain  portions 
of  these  original  lays,  especially  that  of  Fafner.  The 
words  of  the  Forest  Bird  to  Siegfried  come  very  close 
to  those  of  the  Eagles,  who  sang  to  Sigurd  in  "The 
Lay  of  Fafner  " : 

"There  lies  Regin,* 
Contemplating 
How  to  deceive  the  man 
Who  trusts  him : 
Thinks  in  his  wrath 
Of  false  accusations. 
The  evil  smith  plots 
Revenge  'gainst  the  brother." 

Compare  this  passage  with  the  words  of  the  Forest 
Bird  in  Act  11.  of  "Siegfried  ": 

"  O  trust  not  in  Mime, 
The  treacherous  elf ! 

*  Mime. 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        z^^ 

Heareth  Siegfried  but  sharply 
The  shifty  hypocrite's  words, 

What  at  heart  he  means 

Shall  by  Mime  be  shown." 

But  it  was  in  the  Volsunga  Saga  that  Wagner  found 
his  material  in  its  fullest  and  most  available  form. 
None  of  the  editors  of  the  remnants  of  Icelandic  litera- 
ture makes  it  clear,  so  far  as  I  have  been  able  to 
ascertain,  whether  the  Volsunga  Saga  is  older  than 
Snorre's  Edda  or  not.  The  facts  seem  to  be  that  most 
of  the  sagas,  including  this  one,  had  come  into  settled 
form  about  900  a.d.,  and  were  written  down  be- 
tween 1 140  and  1220,  or  during  the  lifetime  of  Snorre. 
It  is  probable,  therefore,  that  Snorre's  recapitulation 
of  the  Volsung  story  was  founded  as  much  upon  the 
Volsunga  Saga  as  upon  the  poems  of  the  Elder  Edda. 
In  all  likelihood  he  knew  both,  and  accepted  the  defi- 
nite outline  of  the  saga  as  a  shape  into  which  to  put 
his  recital  of  the  contents  of  the  lays. 

The  value  of  the  Volsunga  Saga  in  relation  to  the 
Nibelung  tale  lies  in  the  fact  that  its  compiler  was  ac- 
quainted with  some  of  the  lays  of  the  Elder  Edda,  now 
lost,  and  that  he  recounted  their  incidents  for  us,  and 
that  it  supplied  Wagner  with  the  principal  materials 
for  three  out  of  four  of  the  "Ring"  dramas.  The 
origin  of  this  saga  is  not  known,  but  may  easily  be 
surmised.  The  Norse  sagaman  was  a  luxury  of  every 
Court,  as  were  the  Norman  minstrel  and  the  Saxon 
gleeman,  and  it  was  frequently  his  office  to  glorify 
his  sovereign  in  song  by  connecting  him  with  the 
marvellous  heroes  of  ancient  fable.  Students  of  medi- 
aeval epics  know  that  it  was  common  for  their 
makers    to    seek    thus    to    laud   their   patrons.      An 


37^  Richard  Wagner 

interesting  instance  of  tliis  is  the  original  French  story 
of  the  Holy  Grail,  in  which  an  attempt  is  made  by  Kiot 
of  Provence  to  show  that  the  sacred  vessel  was  first 
consigned  to  the  care  of  Titural,  a  mythical  Prince  of 
the  Anjou  Dynasty.  The  Volsunga  Saga  appears  to 
have  been  arranged  largely  for  the  purpose  of  glorify- 
ing the  children  of  Olaf. 

As  a  corollary  to  the  chief  saga  there  may  be  men- 
tioned the  Thidrek  (Dietrich)  Saga,  which  includes 
the  Niflunga  Saga,  and  was,  as  its  writer  states,  made 
from  the  German  stories.  This  saga  agrees  in  some 
parts  with  the  poems  of  Eddaic  origin,  and  in  others 
with  the  "Nibelungen  Lied."  There  is  also  the  Norn- 
agest  Saga,  in  which  Nornagest  (the  Guest  of  the 
Norns)  tells  how  he  witnessed  some  of  Sigurd's  deeds 
and  his  death.  But  the  fundamental  saga  is  that 
which  tells  the  story  of  the  Volsung  race. 

The  story  of  the  Volsunga  Saga  is  too  long  to  be  re- 
peated in  full  in  this  volume,  but  an  outline  of  its 
principal  incidents  must  be  given.  The  genealogy  of 
the  Volsung  race  begins  with  Odin,  whose  son  was 
Sigi,  who  begat  Rerir,  the  father  of  Volsung,  a  mighty 
king.  In  the  midst  of  Volsung's  palace,  with  its 
branches  piercing  the  roof,  stood  the  great  tree  called 
the  Branstock.  Volsung  had  ten  sons  and  a  daughter, 
the  latter  born  a  twin  with  the  eldest  son.  Their 
names  were  Sigmund  and  Signy.  King  Siggeir  of 
Gothland  wedded  Signy,  and  at  the  feast  there  came 
into  the  hall  an  old,  one-eyed  man,  wrapped  in  a 
robe,  and  he  struck  a  sword  into  the  Branstock  so 
that  no  man  save  Sigmund  could  draw  it  forth.  Sig- 
geir was  jealous  and  when  he  had  returned  to  his  own 
land  with  his  bride  he  invited  Volsung  and  his  sons 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        379 

on  a  visit.  Wlien  tliey  liad  come,  he  fell  upon  them 
and  slew  Volsung  and  set  his  sons  in  a  wood  to  be 
devoured  by  wolves.  Sigmund  escaped  and  dwelt  in 
the  wood.  Signy,  desiring  to  avenge  the  slaughter 
of  her  kin,  sent  her  sons  to  Sigmund  to  be  tested  as 
to  their  fitness  for  the  task.  But  he,  finding  them 
unfit,  slew  them.  Then  Signy  put  a  witch  to  sleep 
with  her  husband  and  in  disguise  went  to  Sigmund's 
house  and  asked  for  shelter.  Sigmund  saw  she  was 
fair  and  he  kept  her  three  nights.  Then  she  went  to 
her  home.  And  she  bore  another  son,  whom  she 
called  Sinfjotli.  And  when  he  was  grown  she  sent 
him  to  his  father,  Sigmund. 

In  time,  Sigmund  and  Sinfjotli  slew  Siggeir,  and 
Signy,  having  revealed  the  fact  that  Sinfjotli  was  a 
full-blooded  Volsung,  died  with  her  husband.  Sig- 
mund now  married  Borghild,  who  hated  Sinfjotli  and 
poisoned  him.  Sigmund  divorced  her  and  married 
again,  his  second  wife  being  Hjordis,  who  had  re- 
jected Hunding,  the  son  of  Lygni.  Hunding  came 
with  his  followers  and  fought  Sigmund,  whose  sword 
was  broken  in  the  battle  by  the  spear  of  an  old,  one- 
eyed  man,  wrapped  in  a  mantle.  Dying,  Sigmund 
gave  the  pieces  of  the  broken  sword  to  Hjordis  to 
keep  for  her  son,  who  was  to  be  the  greatest  of  the 
Volsungs.  Hjordis  went  to  the  Court  of  the  King  of 
Denmark  and  bore  the  son,  who  was  called  Sigurd. 
Alf,  the  son  of  the  Danish  King,  wedded  Hjordis, 
and  Sigurd  grew  up  at  the  Court.  His  foster-father 
and  instructor  was  Regin,  a  famous  smith,  a  man  of 
wisdom.  Regin  saw  that  Sigurd  would  be  a  hero, 
and  hoped  to  make  use  of  him.  Sigurd  was  sent  to 
the  woods  to  choose  himself  a  horse,  and  on  the  way 


380  Richard  Wagner 

he  met  an  old  man  with  one  eye,  who  bade  him  drive 
the  horses  into  the  water.  One  swam  across  the  river 
and  that  one  the  old  man  told  Sigurd  to  choose.  This 
horse's  name  was  Grani,  and  it  was  of  the  strain  of 
Odin's  stable.  Now  Regin  told  Sigurd  of  a  dragon, 
Fafnir,  which  lay  guarding  a  mighty  store  of  gold, 
and  he  urged  Sigurd  to  slay  this  dragon  and  get  the 
hoard.  And  Regin  told  Sigurd  the  story  of  the  gold. 
One  Hreidmar  had  three  sons — Fafnir,  Otter,  and 
Regin.  Otter  was  so  called  because  he  was  wont 
to  take  the  form  of  an  otter  and  go  into  the  lake 
called  Andvari's  Lake  to  catch  fish.  One  day  Odin, 
Honir,  and  Loki,  three  of  the  gods,  came  to  the  lake, 
and  Loki  threw  a  stone  at  the  otter  and  slew  it. 
They  took  off  the  skin  and  went  to  the  house  of 
Hreidmar,  who  recognised  the  skin  and  bade  them 
pay  him  a  ransom  of  so  much  gold  as  should  cover 
the  skin  as  it  stood  upright.  Now  Loki  knew  that 
Andvari  had  a  great  store  of  gold,  and,  going  back 
to  the  lake,  he  caught  Andvari,  who  was  swimming 
in  the  guise  of  a  pike,  and  refused  to  release  him 
unless  he  gave  up  all  his  gold  and  also  the  ring  by 
whose  magic  power  the  gold  was  obtained.  And 
in  his  wrath  Andvari  cursed  the  gold  and  the  ring 
and  declared  that  they  should  be  the  bane  of  every 
man  who  should  thereafter  own  them.  Loki  and 
the  gods  strove  to  cover  the  otter  skin  with  the  gold, 
but  Hreidmar  still  saw  one  muzzle-hair  of  the  otter, 
and  they  were  obliged  to  add  also  the  ring  to  hide 
this.     Then  Loki  said  to  Hreidmar  : 

"  Thou  and  thy  son 
Are  naught  fated  to  thrive, 
The  bane  it  shall  be  of  you  both." 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        381 

"Thereafter,"  continued  Regin,  "Fafnir  slew  his 
father  and  murdered  him,  nor  got  I  aught  of  the 
treasure,  and  so  evil  he  grew  that  he  fell  to  lying 
abroad  and  begrudged  any  share  in  the  wealth  to 
any  man,  and  so  became  the  worst  of  all  worms, 
and  ever  now  lies  brooding  upon  that  treasure." 
Sigurd  bade  Regin  make  him  a  sword  with  which 
to  slay  the  dragon,  but  every  one  which  the  smith 
made  the  youth  broke  across  the  anvil.  Then  Sigurd 
bade  him  weld  the  shards  of  the  sword  Gram,  which 
had  belonged  to  Sigmund.  And  when  these  were 
welded  Sigurd  smote  the  anvil  with  the  new  blade 
and  clove  it  in  twain. 

Then  Sigurd  went  to  fight  the  sons  of  Hunding 
and  slew  them  to  avenge  his  father's  death.  Next 
he  went  in  accordance  with  his  promise  to  Regin  and 
slew  Fafnir,  the  dragon.  And  Fafnir  told  him  that 
the  treasure  which  he  would  gain  would  be  his  bane. 
At  the  desire  of  Regin  he  roasted  the  dragon's  heart, 
and  in  preparing  it  he  wet  his  finger  with  the  blood 
and  cleansed  it  with  his  tongue.  Immediately  he 
understood  the  language  of  the  birds  and  heard  the 
woodpeckers  chattering  to  the  effect  that  he  should 
slay  the  treacherous  Regin,  who  desired  his  death, 
should  secure  the  gold  for  himself  and  ride  to  Hind- 
fell,  where  slept  Brynhild,  for  there  he  would  get 
great  wisdom.  Sigurd  slew  Regin  and  rode  off  in 
search  of  Brynhild,  who  lay  in  a  castle  on  a  mountain 
surrounded  by  fire.  Sigurd  rode  to  her  through  the 
fire.  He  took  off  her  helm  and  cut  the  byrny  (breast- 
plate) from  her  with  his  sword.  And  she  awoke  and 
asked  the  name  of  her  awakener.  And  when  she 
had  learned  it  she  sang  : 


382  Richard  Wagner 

"  Long  have  I  slept 

And  slumbered  long, 
Many  and  long  are  the  woes  of  mankind. 

By  the  might  of  Odin 

Must  I  abide  helpless 
To  shake  from  off  me  the  spells  of  slumber. 

"  Hail  to  the  day  come  back  ! 

Hail,  sons  of  the  daylight  ! 
Hail  to  thee,  night,  and  thy  daughter ! 

Look  with  kind  eyes  adown 

On  us  sitting  here  lonely 
And  give  unto  us  the  gain  that  we  long  for." 

She  told  Sigurd  how  she  had  struck  down  in  battle 
Helm  Gunnar,  whom  Odin  had  selected  to  be  vic- 
torious. "And  Odin,  in  vengeance  for  that  deed, 
stuck  the  sleep-thorn  into  me  and  said  1  should 
never  again  have  the  victory,  but  should  be  given 
away  in  marriage  ;  but  thereagainst  I  vowed  a 
vow  that  never  would  I  wed  one  who  knew  the 
name  of  fear."  Then  she  taught  him  all  her  runes, 
and  they  two  plighted  their  troth.  He  went  his 
way,  but  they  met  again  and  renewed  their  vows 
and  he  gave  her  a  ring,  the  ring  of  Andvari.  Before 
he  departed  again  she  prophesied  that  he  would  wed 
Gudrun,  the  daughter  of  King  Giuki. 

Giuki  ruled  south  of  the  Rhine.  He  had  three  sons, 
Gunnar  (Gunther),  Hogni  (Hagen)  and  Guttorm,  and 
one  daughter,  Gudrun.  His  wife  was  Grimhild,  skilled 
in  magic  arts.  Sigurd  went  to  their  court  and  stayed 
five  seasons,  and  Grimhild  perceived  how  dearly  Si- 
gurd loved  Brynhild,  for  he  spoke  much  of  her,  and 
she  also  saw  that  he  was  a  goodly  man  and  she  wished 
to  have  him  wed  Gudrun.  So  she  mixed  him  a  drink 
which  caused  him  to  forget  Brynhild  and  he  began  to 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        383 

love  Gudrun.  He  married  her  and  swore  the  oath  of 
brotherhood  with  Gunnar  and  Hogni.  Brynhild  was 
well  known  to  all  these  persons,  and  one  day  Grim- 
hild,  seeing  that  Gunnar  was  still  unwed,  urged  him 
to  go  to  court  Brynhild,  and  take  Sigurd  with  him. 
Gunnar's  horse,  however,  would  not  go  through  the 
fire.  Then  he  mounted  Grani,  but  he  would  not  stir. 
So  he  and  Sigurd  changed  shapes  after  a  manner 
taught  them  by  Grimhild,  and  Sigurd  in  the  guise  of 
Gunnar  rode  through  the  flames  and,  reminding  Bryn- 
hild that  she  had  sworn  to  wed  no  one  except  him 
who  pierced  the  fire,  claimed  her  as  his  bride,  and  she, 
being  bound  by  the  oath,  yielded.  He  took  the  ring 
of  Andvari  and  her  girdle  from  her,  and  rode  away. 
And  she  went  to  Gunnar's  home  and  was  married  to 
him.  Sigurd  gave  the  ring  and  the  girdle  to  his  wife 
Gudrun,  and  when,  some  time  afterward,  the  two 
women  fell  into  a  dispute  as  to  which  one's  husband 
was  the  greater,  Gudrun  declared  that  it  was  her  own 
husband,  Sigurd,  who  had  overcome  Brynhild  on  the 
mountain  and  made  her  wed  Gunnar.  And  in  proof 
of  her  words  she  showed  the  ring  which  Sigurd  had 
taken  from  Brynhild's  finger  and  given  to  her.  Bryn- 
hild was  now  eager  for  revenge,  and  conspired  with 
Gunnar  and  Hogni  to  put  Sigurd  to  death.  But  they 
had  sworn  brotherhood,  and  so  Guttorm,  the  youngest 
brother,  who  had  not  sworn,  was  chosen  ;  and  he 
slew  Sigurd  as  he  lay  asleep  in  his  bed.  And  Bryn- 
hild, aweary  of  life  and  the  deceits  of  it,  loving  no 
man  but  Sigurd,  drove  a  sword  into  her  bosom,  and, 
dying,  asked  Gunnar  to  burn  her  body  with  Sigurd's. 
And  it  was  so  done. 
Such  is  the  story  of  the  Volsunga  Saga  as  far  as  it 


384  Richard  Wagner 

concerns  the  incidents  of  "  Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen." 
In  the  remaining  part  of  it  is  told  how  Gudrun  became 
the  wife  of  Atli  (Attila)  and  how  he  schemed  to  get 
possession  of  the  treasure  which  Sigurd  had  taken 
from  Fafnir.  But  Gunnar  and  Hogni  sank  the  gold  in 
the  Rhine,  and  thus  it  disappeared.  Atli  slew  them, 
but  they  had  not  revealed  its  hiding-place.  1  have  re- 
hearsed the  tale  of  the  Volsungs  at  more  length  than 
that  of  the  "Nibelungen  Lied  "  because  from  it  Wagner 
obtained  much  more  of  his  material.  It  now  becomes 
necessary  to  review  the  mythological  elements  of  the 
dramas  taken  from  the  Eddas  and  connected  by 
Wagner  with  this  story  from  mere  hints  in  the 
original.  When  that  is  done,  we  shall  be  ready  to 
survey  the  dramas  in  their  entirety  and  see  what  use 
Wagner  made  of  his  materials. 

The  injection  into  the  northern  legends  of  the  gods 
and  goddesses  of  Scandinavian  mythology  and  of  the 
stories  of  the  sins  of  Wotan  and  the  certainty  of  future 
destruction  of  the  gods  furnished  Wagner  with  the 
material  for  all  the  early  portion  of  his  mighty  drama. 
It  provided  him  with  the  ethical  basis  which  makes 
Wotan  the  real  hero  of  a  tragedy,  to  end  in  the  extinc- 
tion not  only  of  himself  and  his  associate  gods,  but  of 
the  entire  old  order  of  the  world,  and  the  establishment 
of  a  new  one.  This  last  idea  is  found  in  the  songs  of 
the  Elder  Edda,  "Odin's  Raven  Song,"  and  "Song 
of  the  Way  Tamer,"  These  relate  to  the  death  of  Bal- 
dur,  the  favourite  son  of  Odin,  and  are  dark  with  the 
mystery  of  an  unknown  terror.  The  gods  are  disturbed 
to  the  depths  of  their  beings,  and  Odin  mounts  his 
steed  and  rides  to  Hell  to  consult  the  Wala  (Erda)  and 
force  from  her  by  means  of  runes  some  information  as 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        385 

to  the  death  of  his  son.  Compare  this  incident  with 
the  first  scene  of  the  third  act  of  "Siegfried."  Read 
the  "Havamal,"  the  High  Song  of  Odin,  which  con- 
tains also  the  rune  song  and  expounds  the  entire 
scheme  of  Norse  ethics.  As  one  of  the  commentators 
on  it  has  well  said,  "  It  shows  a  worldly  wisdom,  ex- 
perience, and  sagacity  to  which  modern  life  can  add 
nothing."  The  power  of  runes  is  explained  in  this 
song.  It  was  by  runes  that  the  wicked  princesses  of 
mediaeval  tales  cast  spells  over  their  enemies,  that  sick- 
ness was  healed,  that  flying  spears  were  checked  in 
battle,  that  ships  conquered  the  storms  of  Old  Ocean. 
Yet  these  runes  were  nothing  but  letters  of  the 
alphabet,  and  their  mysterious  power  was  that  of 
knowledge,  denied  to  many  in  those  dark  times  and 
seemingly  magical  in  its  use  by  the  few. 

In  order  that  we  may  understand  the  true  plot  of 
"  Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen,"  we  must  briefly  examine 
the  mythological  basis  of  it,  as  furnished  by  the  Eddas. 

According  to  the  Eddas,  then,  the  gods  dwelt  in 
Asgard  (the  place  of  the  Ases  or  Aesir),  in  the  castle 
named  Walhalla,  the  abode  of  slain  heroes.  These 
gods  were  not  immortal,  but  were  extraordinary  be- 
ings gifted  with  wonderful  length  of  days.  But  they 
knew  that  at  some  time  they  must  meet  in  final  con- 
flict their  enemies,  of  which  the  chief  were  the  giants. 
There  was  also  in  the  far  south  a  mysterious  Surtur, 
with  a  flaming  sword,  and  the  sons  of  Muspel,  who 
would  join  in  the  last  great  assault  on  the  gods.  Allied 
with  these  giants  would  be  the  horrible  children  of 
Loki — the  Midgard  Snake,  which  encircled  the  earth, 
and  the  Fenris  Wolf.  Loki  was  the  spirit  of  evil,  the 
god  of  fire,   yet   he  was  received  among   the  gods 


386  Richard  Wagner 

because  of  his  wonderful  cunning.  The  dwarfs  dwelt 
in  the  subterranean  places  and  were  wondrous  makers 
of  weapons  for  the  gods,  whom,  nevertheless,  they 
hated. 

The  master  of  all  the  gods  was  Odin,  or  Wotan, 
the  lord  of  war  and  the  hunt.  Upon  the  field  of 
battle  he  was  followed  by  his  Valkyrs,  Wish-Maid- 
ens, choosers  of  the  slain,  who  consecrated  the  fallen 
heroes  with  kisses  and  carried  them  away  to  Walhalla. 
There  they  ate  of  the  feast  of  the  blessed  and  waited 
to  aid  Wotan  in  his  final  battle  with  the  powers  of 
evil.  The  mother  of  the  gods  was  Fricka,  the  wife 
of  Wotan,  the  Juno  of  the  Norse  mythology.  Freya 
was  the  goddess  of  Love,  the  Venus  of  the  assembly. 
Iduna,  another  goddess,  had  care  of  the  golden  ap- 
ples of  endless  youth,  which  the  gods  ate.  Thor  was 
the  wielder  of  the  mighty  hammer,  made  for  him  by 
the  dwarfs. 

The  story  runs  thus  :  Fear  of  the  giants  led  the 
gods  to  desire  to  have  the  mighty  burg  Walhalla 
surrounded  by  a  strong  wall.  By  the  advice  of  Loki 
they  swore  a  great  oath  to  give  the  goddess  Freya 
and  the  sun  and  the  moon  to  the  builder  of  this  wall, 
provided  that  he  had  it  finished  before  the  coming 
of  summer.  If  the  work  was  then  incomplete,  the 
contract  was  void.  The  builder,  a  Frost-Giant  in  dis- 
guise, asked  only  the  aid  of  his  horse  Svadilfare,  and 
this  was  allowed  him.  The  horse  carried  such  vast 
stones  that  the  work  was  almost  done  several  days 
before  the  time  expired.  The  gods  held  a  coun- 
cil, "and  asked  each  other  who  could  have  advised  to 
give  Freya  in  marriage  in  Jothunheim  (the  giant's 
land)  or  to  plunge  the  air  and  the  heavens  in  darkness 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        387 

by  taking  away  the  sun  and  the  moon  and  giving 
them  to  the  giant  ;  and  all  agreed  that  this  must  have 
been  advised  by  him  who  gives  the  most  bad  coun- 
sels,— namely,  Loki,  the  son  of  Lauffey, — and  they 
threatened  him  with  a  cruel  death  if  he  could  not 
contrive  some  way  of  preventing  the  builder  from 
fulfilling  his  part  of  the  bargain."*  Loki  changed 
himself  to  the  guise  of  a  mare  the  next  night,  and 
the  giant's  horse  ran  after  the  mare  and  did  no  work. 
The  giant,  seeing  that  he  was  to  lose  his  bargain,  re- 
sumed his  natural  form,  and  the  gods  called  upon 
Thor,  who  slew  him  with  his  hammer.  So,  as  the 
"Wala's  Prophecy"  in  the  Elder  Edda  says  : 

"  Broken  were  oaths, 

And  words  and  promises — 

All  mighty  speech 

That  had  passed  between  them." 

Thus  did  sin  enter  among  the  gods,  and  by  the 
breaking  of  the  oath  they  burdened  themselves  with 
guilt  inexpiable.  Evil  portents  came.  Iduna  sank 
with  her  golden  apples  of  eternal  youth  to  the 
lower  depths,  and  could  not  be  recalled.  Baldur,  the 
second  son  of  Wotan,  the  holy  one,  into  whose 
presence  no  impure  thing  might  come,  had  terrible 
dreams.  Hel,  the  goddess  of  the  lower  world  and  of 
death,  appeared  to  him  and  beckoned  him  to  come 
to  her. 

Now  the  last  scenes  begin.  Wotan  rides  to  the 
realm  of  shades  and  summons  the  Wala,  who  fore- 
tells the  death  of  Baldur.  Fricka  begs  all  things 
living  or  inanimate  to  swear  that  they  will  not  injure 

*  "  The  Prose  Edda  ";  Translated  by  R.  B.  Anderson. 


388  Richard  Wagner 

Baldur.  She  overlooks  the  mistletoe.  Loki,  noting 
the  omission,  makes  a  dart  of  this  wood  and  gives  it 
to  Hodur,  the  blind  god.  He  in  sport  shoots  the  dart 
at  Baldur,  who  is  supposed  to  be  safe  from  harm,  and 
the  bright  one  falls  dead.  The  death  of  Baldur  is  the 
foreshadowing  of  the  end  of  the  gods,  and  the  dis- 
solution of  the  universe.  Sin  has  entered  among  the 
gods,  and  they  and  all  else  must  pay  the  penalty. 
Then  comes  Ragnarok,  the  German  Gotterdamme- 
rung,  the  twilight  of  the  gods.  The  hostile  forces 
assemble  for  the  last  great  battle.  The  sons  of  Mus- 
pel,  led  by  Surtur  with  the  flaming  sword,  gallop  from 
the  south.  The  Fenris  Wolf  and  the  Midgard  Snake 
are  loosed.  Wotan  leads  the  gods  in  battle.  A 
mighty  conflict  ensues,  and  all  are  slain.  Surtur's 
flames  burn  the  world,  and  from  the  ashes  arises  a 
new  one,  purified  by  fire.  A  youth  and  a  maiden, 
Lif  and  Lifthrasir,  come  out  of  the  wood  of  Hodd- 
mimir,  where,  in  the  innocence  of  childhood,  they  have 
slept  through  all  the  battle,  and  they  begin  the  popula- 
tion of  the  regenerate  world.  And  the  gods  them- 
selves, purified  by  the  fire,  reappear  and  dwell  in 
eternal  peace  on  the  plain  of  Ida,  on  the  site  where 
once  stood  the  mighty  Walhalla. 

II. — The  Story  as  Told  by  Wagner 

We  may  now  briefly  review  the  four  dramas  of 
"  Der  Ring,"  and  trace  the  connection  of  their  in- 
cidents. "Das  Rheingold  "  is  the  prologue  of  the 
whole,  and  it  is  essential  that  we  should  thoroughly 
understand  its  story,  for  it  lays  down  the  basis,  the 
motive,  of   the  entire  tragedy.     We  see  the   Rhine 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        389 

maidens  sporting  around  tiie  Rliine  gold  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  river.  They  are  interrupted  by  the  ap- 
pearance of  Alberich,  the  Nibelung,  who  comes  up 
from  the  nether  regions  of  Nibelheim,  and  is  at  once 
overcome  with  the  desire  to  possess  one  of  the  maid- 
ens. The  rising  sun  lights  up  the  gold.  Alberich's 
curiosity  in  regard  to  it  brings  out  the  story  of  its 
nature.  Here  enters  Wagner's  first  original  and  highly 
poetic  touch.  Only  one  who  renounces  love  can 
make  the  ring  of  gold  by  which  power  is  to  be  ob- 
tained. That  idea  is  not  found  in  the  old  legends. 
Alberich,  failing  in  his  attempt  to  win  one  of  the 
maidens,  forswears  love  and  snatches  the  gold  from 
its  resting-place. 

One  of  the  maidens  tells  us  that  their  father  had 
warned  them  of  a  foe  to  come  from  the  bottom  of  the 
river,  but  we  never  learn  who  was  that  father.  Nor 
is  any  light  thrown  on  the  origin  of  the  gold  itself.  In 
the  Volsunga  Saga  we  find  it  in  the  water,  the  pos- 
session of  Andvari.  In  the  "Nibelungen  Lied  "  Sieg- 
fried wins  the  gold  from  two  brothers,  Schilbung  and 
Nibelung,  who  brought  it  forth  from  a  cave.  It  had 
been  stored  there  for  centuries.  In  the  Thidrek  Saga 
Siegfried  wins  it  from  a  dragon,  which  he  kills.  But 
none  of  the  versions  account  for  the  origin  of  the 
gold.  All  agree  that  it  finally  returned  to  the  Rhine, 
and  that  may  have  been  the  source  of  Wagner's  idea. 
Nor  is  there  any  slightest  foundation  for  the  proclama- 
tion that  only  he  who  forswears  love  will  be  able  to 
profit  by  the  gold.  Wagner  has  simply  allowed  his 
fancy  to  work  with  the  old  maxim  that  money  is  the 
root  of  all  evil,  and  to  represent  the  gods  themselves 
as  ignorant  of  the  power  of  gold   and  innocent  of 


390  Richard  Wagner 

wrong  till  they  acquired  a  knowledge  of  this  power. 
Wotan,  in  his  desire  to  save  Freia,  is  ready  to  yield  to 
the  tempter,  and  his  temptation  and  fall  form  the  sub- 
ject of  the  second  scene. 

In  order  to  get  at  the  full  meaning  of  these  Nibelung 
dramas  we  must  keep  ever  in  mind  Wagner's  intent  to 
follow  in  a  measure  the  methods  of  the  Greek  drama- 
tists, ^schylos,  the  greatest  of  the  Greek  tragic 
writers,  excelled  in  showiiig  thF  inexorable  workings 
of  Fate,  which  in  the  Greek  mind  corresponded  to  the 
modern  conception  of  the  inevitable  punishment  for 
sin.  Wagner  js_  purely  y^schylean  in  his  method  of 
constructing  his  tragedy,  and  he  sets  forth  the  inflex- 
ible processes  of  Fate  with  the  same  high  purpose. 
But  as  he  addressed  himself  to  a  modern  audience  he 
offered  to  it  that  conception  of  Fate  with  which  it  was 
familiar,  namely,  the  absolute  certainty  of  punishment 
for  transgression  of  the  moral  law.  That  he  found  in 
the  old  Norse  legend  a  foundation  for  this  idea  was 
fortunate.  It  simplified  his  work,  yet  left  room  for 
him  to  introduce  striking  original  matter.  The  rape 
of  the  gold  by  one  who  has  renounced  love  is  original 
with  Wagner. 

In  the  second  scene  of  the  prologue,  then,  we  find 
Wotan  and  Fricka  before  the  completed  castle  of  Wal- 
halla,  which  Wotan  salutes  in  a  speech  of  majestic 
dignity.  Fricka  at  once  reminds  him  of  the  price  to 
be  paid.  When  Freia  enters,  calling  upon  Wotan  to 
release  her  from  the  giants,  we  quickly  learn  that  it 
was  Loge  who  devised  the  bargain  and  who  is  de- 
pended upon  by  Wotan  to  find  a  way  out  of  it.  The 
giants  demand  their  pay.  Wotan  tells  them  they 
cannot  have  Freia.     Then  even  the  "stupid  giant,"  as 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        391 

he  calls  himself,  warns  the  god  of  the  consequences 
of  violating  the  faith  by  which  he  rules.  Loge  arrives 
in  the  height  of  the  discussion  and  at  once  shows  the 
evil,  cunning,  flickering  nature  of  his  character.  The 
arch-enemy  of  the  gods,  trusted  only  by  Wotan  who 
confesses  to  a  lack  of  cunning,  Loge  has  planned  a 
temptation  to  work  the  downfall  of  the  Aesir.  He  tells 
the  story  of  his  wanderings.  In  all  the  earth  none 
values  aught  more  than  the  worth  of  woman — save 
one,  black  Alberich  alone,  who  has  forsworn  love, 
stolen  the  Rhine  gold  and  made  from  it  a  ring  to  give 
him  the  mastery  of  the  world.  Donner  exclaims  that 
such  a  ring  may  make  Alberich  master  of  the  gods 
themselves,  and  Wotan  cries  that  he  must  have  the 
ring.  But  the  giants  have  also  heard,  and  they  offer 
to  accept  the  Nibelung  hoard,  the  stolen  Rhine  gold, 
in  ransom  for  Freia,  whom  they  carry  off  till  such 
time  as  Wotan  is  ready  to  pay.  Here  we  see  that 
Wagner  has  followed  none  of  the  original  material 
exactly.  In  the  Eddas  the  giant  is  not  allowed  to 
complete  the  burg,  and  the  hoard  does  not  enter  into 
the  matter  at  all.  In  the  Volsunga  Saga  the  gold  is 
paid  in  ransom  for  the  gods  held  by  Hreidmar  for  the 
murder  of  Otter.  The  connection  ofthe  Rhine  gold 
with  the  entry  of  sin  among  the  gods,  as  narrated  in 
the  Eddas,  is  Wagner's  own  work,  and  it  adds  im- 
measurably to  the  strength  and  poetic  beauty  of  the 
drama. 

Wotan  and  Loge  in  Nibelheim,  the  abode  of  the 
Nibelungs,  is  the  next  picture.  Alberich  has  welded 
the  ring  and  is  the  master  of  his  race.  Mime  has 
made  for  him  the  Tarnhelm,  which  is  to  be  the  in- 
strument of  much  evil.     He  prates  of  the  power  which 


392  Richard  Wagner 

is  yet  to  be  his,  and  even  tlireatens  the  gods.  The 
dwarfs  and  the  giants  are  alike  hostile  to  the  Aesir. 
Tempted  by  Loge's  cunning  to  show  the  magic  of  the 
Tarnhelm,  Alberich  changes  himself  first  to  a  serpent 
and  then  to  a  toad,  and  in  the  latter  form  the  gods 
make  him  a  captive  and  drag  him  away  to  the  surface 
of  the  earth  before  Walhalla.  Then  they  demand  of 
him  as  ransom  the  Nibelung  hoard.  He  gives  it,  for 
with  his  ring  he  can  get  more.  They  call  for  the 
Tarnhelm.  He  gives  that,  too.  Then  they  demand 
the  ring.     Alberich  warns  Wotan  not  to  rob  him  of  it. 

"  Say  I  have  sinned  ; 
The  sin  on  myself  but  falls  : 
But  on  all  things  that  were, 

Are,  and  will  be, 
Strikes  this  evil  of  thine, 
If  rashly  thou  seizest  my  ring." 

The  dwarf,  like  the  giant,  knows  what  must  be  the 
consequence  of  the  infraction  by  the  presiding  god  of 
the  law  above  all  gods.  But  Wotan  tears  the  ring 
from  his  finger.  Then  Alberich  curses  the  ring.  It 
shall  deal  out  death,  not  power.  It  shall  bring  misery, 
not  gladness.  But  this  curse  is,  after  all,  only  a  piece  of 
stage  property.  It  makes  a  theatrical  effect,  and  it 
marks  a  climax  for  the  auditor.  The  real  curse  al- 
ready exists  the  moment  Wotan  stains  himself  with 
crime.  The  thought  of  the  Norse  mythology,  as  set 
forth  in  the  Eddas,  but  lost  by  the  maker  of  Volsunga 
Saga,  is  preserved  by  Wagner  in  the  prophecy  of  Al- 
berich. The  law  will  do  its  own  work  ;  but  the 
curse  has  an  external  and  incidental  value  in  the  con- 
struction of  the  drama.  Alberich  puts  into  words  the 
inevitable  operation  of  the  law. 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        393 

The  prologue  now  moves  swiftly  to  its  end.  The 
giants  return  with  Freia,  and  it  is  arranged  that  they 
are  to  receive  for  her  enough  gold  to  hide  her.  This 
is  Wagner's  adaptation  of  the  incident  of  the  filling  of 
the  otter  skin  in  the  Volsunga  Saga.  The  hoard 
proves  insufficient,  and  the  Tarnhelm  goes  to  swell 
the  heap.  Fasolt,  the  giant  who  is  smitten  by  the 
charms  of  the  goddess,  still  sees  the  glorious  glance  of 
her  eye,  and  demands  that  Wotan  put  the  ring  on  the 
pile  to  stop  this  last  cranny.  Compare  Hreidmar's 
discovery  of  the  muzzle-hair  with  this  poetic  idea  ! 
The  haughty  god  refuses.  The  giants  declare  the  bar- 
gain off,  and  start  away  again  with  Freia.  Loge's 
plan  is  working  perfectly.  He  never  loses  any  op- 
portunity to  fasten  more  firmly  upon  Wotan  his 
burden  of  guilt.  When  the  giants  demand  the  ring, 
Loge  interposes,  saying  that  the  gods  must  retain  that 
because  Wotan  means  to  restore  it  to  the  Rhine 
maidens.  Wotan  at  once  falls  into  the  trap,  and 
says: 

"  What  pratest  thou  there? 
The  prize  so  hardly  come  by 
I  shall  keep,  unawed,  for  myself." 

When  Wotan  has  flatly  refused  to  give  the  ring  to 
the  giants,  Erda,  the  embodiment  of  the  earth  itself, 
the  impersonation  of  primeval  elements,  arises  in 
pale  light  and  mystery.  She  warns  Wotan  to  flee  the 
curse  of  the  ring.  She  declares  herself  to  be  the  all- 
knowing  prophetess,  and  says: 

"  AUes  was  ist,  endet. 
Ein  dusterer  Tag 
dammert  den  Gottern." 


394  Richard  Wagner 

"  All  that  exists,  endeth. 
A  dismal  day 
Dawns  for  the  Aesir." 

This  brief  scene,  so  charged  with  dramatic  and 
musical  potency,  is  Wagner's  use  of  the  prophecy  of 
the  Wala,  as  contained  in  the  Elder  Edda.  That 
prophecy  foretells  the  end  of  the  gods,  but  its  situation 
in  the  story  is  similar  to  that  of  the  Erda  scene  in 
"Siegfried."  It  comes  near  the  end  of  the  tragedy. 
Nevertheless  from  it  Wagner  obtained  the  character  of 
Erda  and  the  prediction  made  by  her  in  "Das  Rhein- 
gold."  The  prophecy  of  the  Wala  in  the  Edda  does 
not  touch  upon  the  sin  of  the  gods,  but  it  sets  forth  in 
detail  the  story  of  Ragnarok,  as  I  have  already  given 
it.  Wagner,  however,  connects  the  Wala's  utterance 
with  the  ethical  basis  of  his  tragedy.  Wotan,  im- 
pressed by  the  prediction,  gives  up  the  ring  and  ran- 
soms Freia.  The  curse  at  once  begins  to  operate.  The 
giants  quarrel  over  the  division  of  the  hoard  and  Fafner 
kills  Fasolt.  In  the  Volsunga  Saga,  from  which  this 
incident  is  adapted,  Fafner  slays  his  father,  while  his 
brother  Regin  plays  the  part  allotted  by  Wagner  to 
Mime  in  ' '  Siegfried, "  as  we  shall  presently  see.  Fafner 
goes  off  to  the  forest  with  his  hoard,  and  there,  as  in 
the  saga,  becomes  a  dragon,  by  the  aid  of  the  Tarn- 
helm,  and  lies  guarding  the  hoard,  which  he  does  not 
know  how  to  use,  for  he  is  too  stupid  to  employ  the 
power  of  the  ring. 

Donner  raises  a  thunderstorm  to  clear  the  air  after 
the  murder,  and  when  the  rain  is  gone  a  rainbow  is 
seen  spanning  the  valley  of  the  Rhine.  The  new  castle 
stands  forth  in  all  its  glory,  and  Wotan,  inviting  Fricka 
to  enter  with  him,  for  the  first  time  calls  it  Walhalla. 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        395 

The  goddess   asks  the   meaning   of  the  name,  and 
Wotan  replies: 

"  What  might  'gainst  our  fears 

My  mind  may  have  found, 

If  proved  a  success 
Soon  shall  explain  the  name." 

The  thought  in  Wotan's  mind  is  that  of  raising  up  a 
race  of  free  heroes  who  shall  perform  vicariously  the 
expiation  denied  to  him.  One  of  them  shall  of  his 
own  volition  rescue  the  ring  and  restore  it  to  its  right- 
ful owners,  thus  satisfying  the  demands  of  the  law 
and  removing  the  curse.  The  conception  of  the  hero 
in  the  mind  of  Wotan  is  made  known  to  us  only  by 
the  orchestra,  which  intones  the  Sword  motive  here 
for  the  first  time.  In  recent  years,  with  the  sanction 
of  Mme.  Wagner,  a  new  idea  has  been  introduced 
into  this  scene.  In  the  hoard  is  the  sword,  which  is 
discarded  by  Fafner  as  valueless.  When  Wotan  con- 
ceives the  hero-thought,  he  picks  up  this  sword  and 
raises  it  aloft  while  the  trumpet  peals  out  the  motive. 
This  was  not  Wagner's  idea,  but  it  is  not  an  unpar- 
donable concession  to  the  demands  of  the  theatre.  It 
was  just  a  little  too  much  for  Wagner  to  expect  that 
his  auditors  would  carry  the  Sword  motive  in  their 
minds  from  "  Das  Rheingold  "  to  the  first  act  of  "Die 
Walkure, "  and  remember  when  hearing  it  in  the  latter 
how  it  was  used  in  the  former  and  thus  find  out  what 
it  meant  there. 

Over  the  rainbow — Bifrost,  as  it  is  called  in  the 
Eddas — the  gods  enter  Walhalla,  the  Rhine  maidens 
vainly  pleading  from  the  valley  below  for  the  return  of 
their  ring,  and  Loge  gloating  over  the  end  to  which, 
as  he  says,  the  Aesir  are  even  now  hastening.     And 


39^  Richard  Wagner 

thus  ends  the  prologue,  to  which  I  have  devoted  much 
space  because  it  contains  the  foundation  of  the  tragedy. 
It  presents  to  us  the  hero  foredoomed  to  destruction, 
the  crime,  and  the  certainty  of  its  inevitable  punish- 
ment. That  is  the  subject-matter  of  the  propositional 
part  of  a  classic  tragedy.  We  are  now  ready  to  ob- 
serve the  workings  of  Wotan's  futile  plans. 

With  the  passage  from  "Das  Rheingold  "  to  "Die 
Walkiire  "  we  enter  upon  the  struggles  of  the  innocent 
human  beings  who  have  been  created  by  Wotan  to 
work  his  will.  The  beautiful  drama  in  which  Wagner 
sets  forth  the  events  leading  to  the  birth  of  Siegfried 
and  the  slumber  of  Brunnhilde  on  the  mountain  is  built 
from  mere  hints  in  the  Volsunga  Saga,  Volsung  is 
no  longer  the  great-grandson  of  Wotan,  but  is  Wotan 
himself.  Siegmund  and  Sieglinde  are  Sigmund  and 
Signy  of  the  saga,  twin  children  of  Wotan.  The  name 
Sieglinde  is  that  of  Siegfried's  mother,  according  to  the 
"Nibelungen  Lied."  It  is  Hunding,  not  Siggeir,  who 
marries  Sieglinde.  The  fight  between  Hunding  and 
Siegmund  takes  place,  not  because  of  the  former's  re- 
jection by  the  maid,  but  because  of  the  latter's  flight 
with  her.  The  mysterious  one-eyed  man  strikes  the 
sword  into  the  tree  at  the  wedding-feast,  and  on  his 
spear  the  sword  of  Siegmund  is  broken  in  the  fight. 
Siegmund  Wagner  substitutes  for  the  warrior  whom 
Brunnhilde  in  the  saga  once  struck  down,  contrary  to 
Wotan's  wishes,  and  when  she  is  put  to  sleep  on  the 
mountain  it  is  for  protecting,  not  slaying,  the  wrong 
man.  We  find  that  she  is  surrounded  by  fire  at  her 
own  request,  that  Wotan  rules  that  she  shall  marry 
only  the  hero  who  will  know  no  fear  and  can  pierce 
the  fire,  and  that  this  hero  is  to  be  the  offspring  of 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        397 

Siegmund  and  Sieglinde — Siegfried,  the  full-blooded 
Volsung,  in  whose  veins  flows  the  blood  and  in  whose 
heart,  freely  and  unconsciously,  works  the  impulse  of 
Wotan.  Let  the  reader  review  the  story  of  the  saga, 
and  compare  it  with  that  of  "  Die  Walkiire." 

The  first  act  of  the  drama  is  taken  up  with  the 
mutual  recognition  of  Siegmund  and  Sieglinde,  their 
strange  love  for  one  another,  the  reception  of  the 
sword  by  the  hero  for  whom  it  was  struck  into 
the  tree,  and  the  flight  of  the  lovers.  Then  comes  the 
deeply  significant  opening  scene  of  the  second  act. 
The  Valkyr  Briinnhilde,  revealed  to  us  in  all  the  glory 
of  her  divine  beauty  and  strength,  starting  to  the  field, 
is  warned  not  to  carry  Hunding  to  Walhalla.  To 
Wotan  now  comes  Fricka,  stirred  to  the  bottom  of 
her  nature  by  the  deep  affront  in  the  action  of  Sieg- 
mund and  Sieglinde  to  her  dignity  as  the  goddess  of 
marriage.  She  demands  the  punishment  of  the  erring 
pair.  Wotan  vainly  pleads  that  the  gods  need  the  aid 
of  a  hero  working  of  his  own  free  will  in  their  defence. 
Fricka  brushes  aside  this  plea  with  the  declaration  that 
heroes  have  no  powers  which  are  denied  to  gods. 
She  tells  Wotan  that  it  is  he  who  breathes  courage  into 
Siegmund,  that  it  was  he  who  struck  the  sword  into 
the  tree,  devised  the  need  into  which  Siegmund  should 
fall,  and  guided  him  to  the  house  of  Hunding.  She 
stands  upon  her  dignity  as  the  celestial  queen  and 
demands  that  the  outrage  of  her  especial  laws  shall  be 
punished.  Wotan  must  not  protect  Siegmund  in  the 
coming  fight  and  he  must  forbid  Brunnhilde's  doing 
so.  By  hard-wrung  oath  she  binds  her  spouse  to 
abandon  his  own  plan  and  submit  to  the  demands  of 
the  inexorable  moral  law. 


39^  Richard  Wagner 

Briinnhilde  returns  to  his  side  only  to  learn  the  story 
of  her  sire's  grief.  He  tells  her  the  history  of  the  rape 
of  the  gold,  of  the  endless  scheming  of  Alberich  for 
the  downfall  of  the  gods,  of  his  own  plan  to  fill 
Walhalla  with  defenders,  of  his  search  for  Erda,  and 
her  becoming  Brunnhilde's  mother.  If  Alberich  re- 
covers the  ring  Walhalla  is  lost,  for  only  he  who 
forswore  love  can  work  evil  with  the  circlet  of  Rhine 
gold.  The  ring  must  be  taken  from  Fafner,  but 
Wotan  dare  not  take  it  himself  because  to  do  so  would 
be  a  violation  of  faith  and  bring  more  suffering  upon 
him.  Only  the  free  hero  can  accomplish  this  end. 
But  Fricka  has  unmasked  the  truth.  Siegmund  is  but 
the  slave  of  Wotan's  will.  And  in  his  final  outburst 
of  grief  and  impotent  rage  the  god  sums  up  his 
misery  : 

"I  have  wrested  Alberich's  ring, 
Grasped  the  coveted  gold  ! 
The  curse  I  incurred 
Doth  cling  to  me  yet: — 
What  I  love  best  I  must  relinquish, 
Slay  him  1  hold  most  sacred  ; 

Trusting  belief 

Foully  betray  ! 

Glory  and  fame 

Fade  from  my  sight ! 

Heavenly  splendour, 

Smiling  disgrace  ! 

Be  laid  in  ruins 

All  I  have  reared  ! 
Over  is  my  work  : 
But  one  thing  waits  me  now— 

The  ending, 

The  ending  ! 
And  for  that  ending 
Looks  Alberich ! 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        399 

Now  I  measure 

The  meaning  mute 
Of  what  the  witch  spake  in  wisdom: — 

"  When  that  love's  defiant  foe 

Grimly  getteth  a  son, 

The  sway  of  the  gods 
Full  soon  shall  end  !  " 
The  Nibelung  dwarf 
I  now  understand 
To  have  won  him  a  woman, 
By  gold  gaining  his  hopes. 

In  lust  she  bears, 

Loveless,  a  babe. 

And  hatred's  fruit 

From  her  draws  life. 

The  love-scorner  well 

Can  work  such  wonders  ; 
But  he  !  long  for  fondly — 
The  free  one — doth  lack  me  yet ! 

Then  now  take  my  blessing, 

Nibelung's  babe  ! 

What  thus  1  fling  from  me 

Hold  as  thy  fortune  : 
Walhalla's  sumptuous  halls 
Shall  sate  thy  unhallowed  desires  ! " 

How  Wagner  builds  upon  his  material!  Hagen,  the 
hatred-born  son  of  Alberich,  offspring  of  gold,  shall 
cause  the  downfall  of  the  gods.  He,  the  child  of 
evil,  shall  be  the  instrument  of  law  !  And  all  this  is 
original  with  Wagner.  To  mere  hints  in  the  sources 
he  adds  the  details  of  a  complete  poetic  story,  and  al- 
ways the  development  of  the  fundamental  ethical 
thought  on  which  the  whole  tragedy  rests  is  his.  Yet 
these  scenes,  in  which  the  god  is  revealed  to  us  as  so 
intensely  human,  are  the  ones  to  which  the  average  at- 
tendant at  Wagner  performances  give  the  least  thought. 


400  Richard  Wagner 

Wagner  was  much  concerned  about  this  scene,  and 
indeed  about  the  whole  act.  On  October  3,  1855, 
he  sent  the  first  two  acts  to  Liszt  and  wrote  to  him 
thus  : 

"  I  am  anxious  for  the  weighty  second  act ;  it  contains  two  catas- 
trophes, so  important  and  powerful  that  there  would  be  sufficient 
matter  for  two  acts  ;  but  then  they  are  so  interdependent  and  the  one 
implies  the  other  so  immediately,  that  it  was  impossible  to  separate 
them,  if  it  is  represented  exactly  as  I  intend,  and  if  my  intentions  are 
perfectly  understood,  the  effect  must  be  beyond  anything  that  has 
hitherto  been  in  existence.  Of  course  it  is  written  only  for  people 
who  can  stand  something  (perhaps  in  reality  for  nobody).  That 
incapable  and  weak  persons  will  complain  cannot  in  any  way  move 
me.  You  must  decide  whether  everything  has  succeeded  according 
to  my  own  intentions.  I  cannot  do  it  otherwise.  At  times,  when  I 
was  timid  and  sobered  down,  I  was  chiefly  anxious  about  the  great 
scene  of  Wotan,  especially  when  he  discloses  the  decrees  of  Fate  to 
Brunnhilde,  and  in  London  i  was  once  on  the  point  of  rejecting  the 
whole  scene.  In  order  to  come  to  a  decision  I  took  up  the  sketch  and 
recited  the  scene  with  proper  expression,  when  fortunately  I  discovered 
that  my  spleen  was  unjustified,  and  that,  if  properly  represented,  the 
scene  would  have  a  grand  effect  even  in  a  purely  musical  sense." 

The  remainder  of  the  drama  is  taken  up  with  the 
development  of  what  has  been  prepared.  Briinn- 
hilde's  mind  is  distracted.  She  feels  that  Wotan, 
against  his  own  inclinations,  is  about  to  sacrifice  Sieg- 
mund  to  the  wrath  of  Fricka.  Presently  the  fleeing 
and  guilty  lovers  approach.  Sieglinde,  overcome  with 
shame  and  terrified  at  the  prospect  of  Hunding's  at- 
tack, sinks  senseless  in  the  arms  of  Siegmund. 
Brunnhilde  appears,  and  in  the  beautiful  scene,  usually 
named  by  its  German  title,  the  "  Todesverkiindigung,"' 
announces  to  Siegmund  his  coming  death.  He  pas- 
sionately refuses  to  die  or  to  go  to  Walhalla  without 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        401 

his  bride,  and  Brunnhilde,  overcome  by  his  pleading, 
promises  to  aid  him  in  the  fight.  She  does  so,  and 
Wotan  thrusts  his  spear  between  the  combatants,  so 
that  Siegmund's  sword  is  shattered  upon  it.  Hunding 
slays  Siegmund  and  is  himself  stricken  to  death  by  the 
sword  of  Wotan.  Brunnhilde  flees  to  the  Valkyr's 
rock  with  Sieglinde,  gives  her  the  pieces  of  the  broken 
sword,  foretells  the  birth  of  a  son,  whom  she  names 
Siegfried,  and  sends  Sieglinde  to  secrete  herself  in  the 
forest  to  the  eastward,  where  Faf  ner  lies  brooding  on  the 
hoard.  Wotan  arrives  in  hot  pursuit  of  his  disobedient 
daughter,  drives  off  her  frightened,  pleading  sisters, 
and  sentences  her,  as  already  told.  And  all  this 
Wagner  has  evolved  from  a  few  scattered  lines  in  the 
saga.  The  marvellous  beauty  of  the  scene  between 
Wotan  and  his  beloved  child  cannot  be  described. 

But  let  the  reader  remember  that  the  punishment  in- 
flicted on  her  is  not  solely  because  of  her  disobedience 
of  a  command,  but  also  and  chiefly  because  the  salva- 
tion of  Siegmund  would  have  violated  Wotan's  oath 
to  Fricka  and  thus  have  increased  the  burden  of  guilt 
already  upon  the  conscience  of  this  unfortunate  and 
very  human  god.  Again  the  ethical  basis  of  the 
tragedy  comes  to  the  front,  and  the  moral  law,  oper- 
ating as  Fate,  demands  a  victim.  Brunnhilde  becomes 
the  Sleeping  Beauty,  so  familiar  to  us  in  the  fairy  tales, 
and  waits  for  her  prince  to  wake  her,  a  prince  who 
shall  be  without  fear,  and  who  shall  see  no  terrors  in 
the  point  of  All-Father's  dread  spear.  This  hero  will 
be  free,  "  freer  than  1,  the  god,"  as  Wotan  tells  us, 
while  the  majestic  pealing  of  the  young  hero's  motive 
by  the  orchestra  reveals,  what  the  text  does  not,  that 

Siegfried  will  be  the  awakener. 
26 


402  Richard  Wagner 

None  of  the  sagas  or  legends  in  any  way  connect 
Brlinnhilde  with  the  fate  of  Siegfried's  parents  or  the 
birth  of  the  hero.  Wagner's  invention  is  here  truly 
dramatic.  He  has  welded  separate  incidents  into  a 
sequence  of  beautiful  poetry  and  immense  dramatic 
significance.  In  doing  so  he  has  greatly  increased  the 
splendour  of  the  character  of  Brunnhilde.  He  has  en- 
larged the  aspect  of  her  divinity,  and  has  painted  with 
the  hand  of  a  master  the  strange  commingling  in  her 
of  godhood  and  womanhood.  Her  sympathy  with  the 
doomed  pair  is  wholly  womanly,  and  it  leads  to  her 
becoming  entirely  a  woman  when  Wotan,  in  the  en- 
forcement of  the  demands  of  law,  kisses  the  godhood 
from  her.  None  of  the  old  poems  suggest  such  a 
Brunnhilde  as  Wagner's.  She  is  a  creation  as  distinct 
as  Shakespeare's  Juliet,  as  great  as  his  Hamlet.  In  all 
dramatic  literature  there  is  no  more  majestic  female 
figure  than  the  Brunnhilde  of  "Die  Walkure "  and 
"Siegfried."  In  the  final  drama  she  diminishes  in 
stature,  by  reason  of  the  loss  of  her  virginity.  Then 
she  is  only  a  weak  woman,  except  in  the  last  scene, 
when  she  rises  once  more  on  the  wings  of  grief  to  the 
proudest  heights  of  self-sacrifice. 

And  so  we  pass  to  the  next  drama  of  the  trilogy,  the 
second  act  of  the  tragedy.  The  story  of  this  is  simple. 
Few  ethical  questions  arise.  All  is  concerned  with 
the  acts  of  the  free  hero,  working  without  know- 
ledge of  Wotan,  while  the  Nibelungs  vainly  strive 
to  divert  the  results  of  the  action  to  their  own  benefit. 
Again  we  meet  with  the  warring  forces, — gods,  giants, 
and  dwarfs, — but  the  gods  are  passive.  Wotan,  dis- 
guised as  a  wanderer,  watches  the  progress  of  events, 
but  does  not  interfere  in  it.     The  first  act  takes  place 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        403 

in  the  cavern  occupied  as  iiome  and  smitliy  by  Mime,* 
no  longer  subject  to  Iiis  crafty  brother,  but  now  in 
business  for  himself  and  scheming  to  make  the  young 
Siegfried  his  instrument  for  the  recovery  of  the  gold 
and  the  ring.  Sieglinde  died  in  childbirth  in  Mime's 
cavern,  and  the  dwarf,  knowing  well  who  she  was, 
has  taken  good  care  of  her  son.  Mime  is  an  in- 
finitely more  picturesque  character  than  the  Regin  of 
the  saga,  and  the  cavern  a  far  more  romantic  home 
for  the  nurture  of  a  forest  hero  than  the  Court  of  the 
Danish  King.  Wagner  keeps  clear  of  historical  sur- 
roundings and  conventionalities  and  presents  to  us  a 
primal,  elementary  youth,  a  being  whom  we  cannot 
fail  to  love.  For  Siegfried  is  the  free,  untrammelled 
youth  of  all  time,  the  young  man  rejoicing  in  the 
strength  of  his  youth,  and  arriving  at  the  fundamental 
laws  of  life  and  love  by  observation,  introspection,  and 
the  mighty  workings  of  natural  passion.  He  is  a  type, 
freed  from  every  convention  of  clothes-philosophy 
and  custom,  from  every  condition  of  time  or  place. 
Siegfried  is  Young  Manhood.  His  every  utterance 
demands  of  the  impersonator  a  largeness  of  con- 
ception far  and  away  beyond  the  requirements  of 
the  ordinary  operatic  roles.  These  are  the  petty 
puppets  of  libretto  machinists,  who  cut  and  fit  more 
or  less  dramatic  stories  according  to  the  specifications 

*  Wagner  obtained  the  name  of  Mime  from  the  Thidrek  Saga,  in 
which  Mimir  is  a  cunning  smith,  the  brother  of  Regin.  In  this  saga 
Regin  is  the  name  of  the  dragon.  A  naked  child  comes  to  Mimir, 
and  because  a  hind  runs  out  of  the  wood  and  licks  the  child,  Mimir 
knows  that  it  is  a  stray  which  the  animal  has  cared  for.  He  takes 
the  child  and  rears  it  and  calls  it  Sigfrid.  This  youth  slays  the 
dragon,  and  then  the  tale  proceeds  along  the  same  lines  as  the  other 
sagas  connected  with  Siegfried. 


404  Richard  Wagner 

of  the  Meyerbeerian  plan.  But  Siegfried  must  be 
conceived  along  the  lines  of  Brunnhilde's  apostrophe  : 

"O  Siegfried  !  Herrlicher  ! 
Hort  der  Welt ! 
Leben  der  Erde, 
Lachender  Held  ! " 

"O  Siegfried!  Lordly  one!  Shield  of  the  world! 
Life  of  the  earth  !  Smiling  hero  !"  He  must  be  big 
in  every  way — big  in  the  brawn  of  his  brandished 
limbs,  big  in  the  bursts  of  his  blithesome  enthusiasm, 
and  big  in  the  beauty  and  bloom  of  his  song.  For 
Wagner,  in  his  "Communication,"  tells  us  how,  in 
the  endeavour  to  discover  what  it  was  that  drew 
him  to  the  heart  of  the  sagas,  he  drove  into  the  deeper 
regions  of  antiquity, 

"  where,  at  last,  to  my  delight  and  truly  in  the  utmost  reaches  of  old 
time,  1  was  to  light  upon  the  fair  young  form  of  Man  in  all  the 
freshness  of  his  force.  My  studies  thus  bore  me  through  the  legends 
of  the  Middle  Ages  right  down  to  their  foundation  in  the  old  Ger- 
manic Mythos  ;  one  swathing  after  another,  which  the  later  legend- 
ary lore  had  bound  around  it,  1  was  able  to  unloose,  and  thus, 
at  last,  to  gaze  upon  it  in  its  chastest  beauty.  What  here  1  saw  was 
no  longer  the  figure  of  conventional  history,  whose  garment  claims 
our  interest  more  than  does  the  actual  shape  inside,  but  the  real, 
naked  Man,  in  whom  I  might  spy  each  throbbing  of  his  pulses, 
each  stir  within  his  mighty  muscles,  in  uncramped,  freest  motion  ; 
the  type  of  the  true  human  being." 

It  was  the  recognition  of  Siegfried  in  his  perfection, 
not  as  belittled  in  the  "Nibelungen  Lied,"  that  made 
Wagner  conceive  him  as  the  hero  of  his  drama. 
That  conception,  once  formed,  was  not  lost  in  the 
subsequent  development  which  made  Wotan  the  real 
protagonist.     Siegfried,  in  the  first  drama  in  which 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        405 

he  appears,  stands  as  the  type  of  the  utmost  freedom 
of  human  impulse  and  action,  the  complete  foil  to 
the  far-seeing,  law-constrained  god.  He  represents 
the  complementary  element  in  the  ethical  basis  of  the 
tragedy.  He  is  the  pure  one,  over  whom  Fate,  in 
the  shape  of  the  inexorable  moral  law,  has  yet  no 
control.  He  is  himself.  He  makes  his  own  deeds. 
He  is  the  free  agent  for  whom  the  despairing  god  has 
yearned. 

Thus,  then,  we  see  him  in  the  first  act  of  the  drama, 
— an  impulsive,  discontented  youth,  eager  for  larger 
fields  of  action,  moved  by  strange  emotions  which 
he  does  not  comprehend,  and  for  whose  meaning 
he  vainly  questions  the  cunning  dwarf.  A  sword  he 
needs,  but  none  which  the  dwarf  makes  will  bear 
the  force  of  his  blow.  At  last  he  wrings  from  Mime 
the  true  story  of  his  birth,  and  the  pieces  of  the 
broken  sword,  which  Siegmund  in  his  hour  of  need 
christened  "Nothung"  ("Needful"),  are  produced  as 
evidence.  These  shall  Mime  weld,  declares  Siegfried, 
and  then  the  free  youth  will  make  his  home  in  the 
wide  world.  But  weld  that  particular  sword,  the 
sword  which  Wotan  struck  into  the  tree  Branstock,  is 
just  what  Mime  cannot  do.  Wotan,  in  his  wanderer's 
guise,  comes  to  prophesy  to  Mime  that  only  one 
who  never  knew  fear  shall  accomplish  the  task.  To 
him  is  forfeit  the  head  which  Mime  has  staked  on 
answering  Wotan's  questions. 

The  scene  of  the  questions  between  Wotan  and 
Mime  was  probably  suggested  to  Wagner  by  the 
"  Vafthrudnersmal,"  one  of  the  poems  of  the  Elder 
Edda,  which  shows  Odin  holding  a  similar  conversa- 
tion with  the  omniscient  giant,   Vafthrudner.     Odin 


4o6  Richard  W^agner 

appears  as  a  poor  traveller  named  Gangrader,  and  en- 
gages in  a  contest  of  knowledge  with  the  giant. 
Gangrader,  in  answer  to  Vafthrudner's  questions,  tells 
the  names  of  the  horses  that  carry  Day  and  Night 
across  the  sky  and  of  the  river  which  divides  Asgard 
from  Jotunheim  (Riesenheim,  the  giant's  land)  and  the 
field  where  the  last  battle  is  to  be  fought.  The  giant 
tells  the  origin  of  the  earth,  the  story  of  the  creation 
of  the  gods,  what  the  heroes  do  in  Walhalla,  what 
was  the  origin  of  the  Norns,  who  will  rule  after  the 
world  had  been  destroyed  and  what  will  be  the  end 
of  the  father  of  the  gods.  Finally  the  god  asks  : 
"What  did  Odin  whisper  in  the  ear  of  his  son  before 
he  ascended  the  funeral  pile?"  The  giant  recognises 
Odin  by  this  question,  and  says,  "Who  can  tell  what 
thou  didst  whisper  of  old  in  the  ear  of  thy  son  ?  I 
have  called  down  my  fate  upon  my  own  head  when 
I  dared  to  enter  on  a  strife  of  knowledge  with  Odin. 
All-Father,  thou  wilt  ever  be  the  wisest."  We  are  not 
told  whether  the  giant  lost  his  head,  but  we  are  led  to 
believe  that  the  whispered  word  was  "Resurrection." 

When  Siegfried  returns,  Mime  vainly  endeavours  to 
teach  him  the  meaning  of  fear,  for  he  would  save  his 
head.  Siegfried  laughs  at  the  conception,  and  forth- 
with forges  anew  the  broken  blade  of  Nothung,  cleav- 
ing in  twain  the  anvil  and  shouting  in  the  joy  of  his 
strength.  As  for  Mime,  he  now  sees  that  Siegfried 
will  surely  slay  Fafner,  of  whom  he  has  told  the  youth. 
Yet  the  dwarf  is  in  terror,  for  if  Siegfried  does  not 
learn  fear  from  the  dragon,  then  the  dwarf  dies  ;  and 
if  he  does  learn  it,  who  is  to  rescue  the  hoard  from 
Fafner's  grasp  ? 

To  the  forest,  then,  in  the  second  act,  we  follow  the 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        407 

youth  and  his  scheming  preceptor.*  Alberich  lies  in 
watch  outside  Fafner's  cave,  and  Wotan  comes  to 
warn  the  giant  that  his  fate  draws  near.  Alberich 
listens,  wondering,  while  Wotan  addresses  the  dragon 
in  his  lair.  Anon  Mime  conducts  Siegfried  to  the  spot 
and  leaves  him.  Alone  the  hero  muses  on  his  life, 
his  birth,  his  mother's  death,  his  own  lack  of  a  mate. 
He  hears  the  song  of  a  forest  bird  and  thinks,  could  he 
but  understand  it,  it  might  tell  him  of  his  needs. 
He  fashions  a  reed  pipe  wherewith  to  talk  to  the  bird, 
but  his  effort  is  futile.  The  scene  is  one  of  strange 
beauty,  the  orchestra  imitating  the  weaving  of  the 
forest  leaves  and  shadows  in  a  wondrous  tone-poem, 
the  "Waldweben."  Despairing  of  success  with  the 
reed,  Siegfried  winds  a  blast  upon  his  horn,  and 
Fafner,  the  dragon,  emerges  from  his  concealment. 

Siegfried  attacks  and  slays  the  monster.  Dying, 
the  giant  tells  him  to  beware  of  Mime.  Plucking  his 
sword  from  the  beast's  heart,  the  youth  wets  his 
finger  with  the  blood  and  cleanses  it  with  his  lips. 
At  once  he  understands  the  language  of  the  bird. 
And  here  we  meet  with  one  of  Wagner's  dramatic 
makeshifts,  which  has  often  been  ridiculed.  Before 
the  hero  understands  the  bird  its  tones  are  represented 
by  the  clarionet  ;  afterward  it  sings  German  text  in  a 
soprano  voice.  This  is  Wagner's  plan  for  conveying 
the  language  of  the  bird  to  the  audience.  It  is  awk- 
ward, but  there  was  plainly  no  other  way  to  let  the 
hearer  into  the  secret.  One  needs  the  help  of  his 
imagination  here,  and  must  bear  ever  in  mind  that  he 
is  listening  to  one  of  the  world's  fairy  tales.     The  bird 

*In  the  locale  of  this  scene  Wagner  follows  the  Thidrek,  not  the 
Volsunga  Saga.     The  latter  makes  the  place  a  heath. 


4o8  Richard  Wagner 

sends  Siegfried  to  get  the  iielm  and  the  ring  and  warns 
the  youth  to  be  wary,  for  Mime  is  treacherous. 

And  now  comes  another  makeshift.  Mime  ap- 
proaches, knowing  that  Siegfried  has  slain  the  dragon 
and  obtained  the  helm  and  the  ring.  The  dwarf  plans 
to  sink  the  youth  in  sleep  by  a  potion,  slay  him,  and 
secure  the  treasure.  But  as  he  would  prattle  of  his 
love  and  fidelity,  he  unconsciously  reveals  the  inner 
workings  of  his  mind,  and  to  do  this  he  has  to  utter 
them  aloud.  Siegfried  and  the  audience  hear  them. 
It  is  clumsy,  but  again  there  seemed  no  other  way. 
Siegfried  slays  Mime,  and  again  lays  himself  down 
under  the  linden  tree.  The  "Waldweben"  is  heard 
again,  and  once  more  the  bird  sings  to  the  hero,  this 
time  to  tell  him  that  Brunnhilde  sleeps  on  the  fire-girt 
rock,  where  only  he  who  knows  not  fear  can  reach 
her.  Siegfried  springs  forward  on  the  path,  the  bird 
showing  him  the  way.  The  whole  structure  and 
fancy  of  this  beautiful  act  are  original  with  Wagner. 
The  saga  gave  the  dramatist  only  the  facts  of  the 
slaying  of  the  dragon  and  the  understanding  of  the 
language  of  the  birds,  which  warned  the  hero  of 
the  dwarf's  treachery  and  told  him  of  the  sleeping 
beauty.  The  treatment  and  development  in  the  drama 
are  infinitely  more  poetic  than  in  the  original  story. 

The  third  act  opens  with  an  interview,  suggested 
by  the  Elder  Edda,  between  Wotan  and  Erda  at  the 
foot  of  the  Valkyr's  mountain.  Wotan  once  more  con- 
sults the  Wala,  but  she  tells  him  naught  of  value. 
The  god,  now  ready  to  resign  the  empire  of  the 
world  and  prepared  for  the  ending  of  the  Aesir, 
awaits  the  hero's  coming.  Siegfried,  led  by  the  bird, 
confronts  him,  and  with  the  sword  Nothung  smites 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        409 

the  opposing  spear  in  twain.  I  have  seen  it  asked 
wiiy  this  sword,  which  was  shattered  upon  the  spear 
in  "Die  Walkiire, "  now  cleaves  the  runic  haft.  The 
ethical  basis  of  the  tragedy  explains  this.  Siegmund 
was  doomed  to  expiate  his  crime,  a  victim  to  Fricka, 
the  avenger,  and  to  the  law  behind  her.  But,  welded 
anew  by  the  hand  of  a  spotless  hero,  the  sword  is 
resistless.*  The  law  has  no  hold  upon  it.  Crying 
"In  vain!  1  cannot  stop  thee,"  Wotan  disappears 
from  the  tragedy.  We  hear  of  him,  but  see  him  no 
more  till  the  flames  of  Walhalla  reveal  him  to  us  in 
the  blazing  sky. 

Siegfried  penetrates  the  fire,  and  finds  the  sleeping 
beauty.  He  cuts  the  byrny  from  her  bosom,  as  in  the 
saga,  and  wakes  her  with  a  kiss.  She  sings  her 
hymn  to  the  sun  and  the  light  and  the  earth,  and  pro- 
claims herself  Siegfried's  from  the  beginning.  One 
last  struggle  for  her  maidenhood,  and  she  yields 
herself.  The  union  is  made.  The  old  order  is  done. 
The  new  race  is  to  come  and  rule  the  world.  The 
drama  closes  with  a  duo  of  passionate  beauty,  and 
we  are  ready  for  "  Gotterdammerung,"  the  last  act  of 
"  Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen." 

No  doubt  the  legend  of  Sigurd's  penetration  of  the 
flames  was  taken  from  the  old  story  of  Freyr,  the  sun- 
god,  who  rode  through  a  hedge,  guarded  by  fierce 
dogs,  and  a  fiame-circle  within  it,  to  win  Gerda  for 
his  bride.  In  the  later  form  of  the  legend,  as  told  in 
the  Elder  Edda,  Freyr  once  saw  Gerda  afar  off  and  fell 
in  love  with  her.     He  pined,  and  his  son  told  Skirnir, 

*Rassmann  holds  that  the  name  "  Gram"  ("  Wrath  ")  was  given  to 
the  sword  in  tiie  Volsunga  Saga  because  only  Odin's  wrath  could 
break  it.     See  Rassmann's  "  Heldensage,"  vol.  i. 


4IO  Richard  Wagner 

his  faithful  servant,  of  this.  Skirnir  took  Freyr's 
horse  and  magic  sword,  rode  through  the  flames,  and 
conquered  the  unwilling  Gerda  by  means  of  runes. 
Among  the  things  she  refused  before  he  employed  the 
runes  was  the  magic  ring  which  the  dwarfs  had  made. 
From  it  eight  new  ones  dropped  each  ninth  night. 
Thus  we  see  that  the  myth  is  related  to  both  of  Sigurd's 
exploits,  —  that  in  which  he  penetrated  the  flames  for 
himself,  and  that  in  which  he  represented  Gunnar. 
The  ring  made  by  the  dwarfs,  of  course,  became  in 
the  saga  tale  the  ring  of  Andvari,  carrying  its  curse,  and 
was  given  to  Brunnhilde  after  the  hero  had  won  her. 

The  last  drama  of  the  series  opens  with  a  scene 
taken  directly  from  the  Norse  mythology.  On  the 
Valkyr's  rock  sit  the  three  Norns,  weaving  their  rope 
of  runes  and  peering  into  the  events  of  the  past,  the 
present,  and  the  future.  For  such  is  their  vocation. 
They  are  the  Fates  of  older  legend.  In  the  Scandi- 
navian mythology  they  were  called  Urd,  who  looked 
into  the  past  ;  Verdandi,  who  surveyed  the  present, 
and  Skuld,  the  youngest,  who  gazed  into  the  future. 
Wagner  does  not  use  the  names,  nor  does  he  discrim- 
inate in  the  occupations  of  the  three.  Indeed,  the 
scene  has  no  close  dramatic  relation  to  the  drama 
about  to  be  enacted,  but  is  rather  a  pictorial  and  mu- 
sical mood  tableau,  designed  to  fill  the  mind  of  the 
auditor  with  portents.  In  the  narrative  of  the  first 
Norn  we  hear  how  Wotan  lost  his  eye,  selling  it  for  a 
draught  from  the  fountain  of  knowledge,  and  how  he 
broke  a  limb  from  the  great  ash  Yggdrasil  itself  to 
fashion  his  spear.  These  are  incidents  in  the  old 
mythology.  The  ash  tree  was  watered  daily  from 
Urd's  fountain,  and  it  could  not  wither  till  the  last 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        411 

battle  was  about  to  be  fought.  From  the  first  Norn's 
tale  we  learn  that  the  tree  has  withered  and  the  fount- 
ain dried.     This  is  a  portent  of  the  end. 

From  the  stories  of  the  other  Norns  we  learn  that  as 
soon  as  Siegfried  had  broken  Wotan's  spear  the  god 
summoned  his  heroes  to  the  world's  ash  tree  and  cut 
it  down.  From  it  were  hewn  fagots,  and  these 
were  piled  high  in  Walhalla.  Wotan  and  the  heroes 
sit  in  state,  waiting  for  the  flames  which  shall  consume 
their  abode.  The  dusk  of  the  gods  is  at  hand.  While 
the  Norns  are  trying  to  fathom  the  outcome  of  the 
curse  on  the  ring,  their  rope  breaks.  With  frightened 
cries  they  sink  into  the  earth,  declaring  that  the  world 
shall  no  more  hear  their  wisdom. 

Siegfried  and  Brunnhilde,  in  the  dawn  of  the  new 
day,  come  forth  from  their  cavern  home.  The  young 
hero  has  matured  into  a  man.  He  is  clad  in  Briinn- 
hilde's  armor  and  wears  her  cloak.  How  long  they 
were  together  on  the  mountain  no  one  knows.  It 
was  long  enough  for  the  youth  to  become  a  man,  and 
to  learn  all  Brlinnhilde's  wisdom.  She  is  sending  him 
forth  to  new  exploits,  fearing  only  that  she  may  not 
hold  his  heart  in  absence.  She  has  taught  him  all  her 
runes,  and  surrendered  to  him  her  maidenhood's 
strength.  What  these  runes  were  we  can  learn  from 
the  Lay  of  Sigdrifa  in  the  Elder  Edda,  but  they  have 
no  bearing  upon  the  story  of  Wagner.  The  statement 
that  Brijnnhilde  has  lost  her  maiden  strength  is  of 
importance,  for  it  helps  to  explain  why  Siegfried  is 
afterward  able  to  snatch  the  ring  from  her.  With  her 
maidenhood,  departed  the  last  vestige  of  her  divinity, 
her  strength.  Henceforth  she  is  all  woman.  The  de- 
cree of  Wotan  is  fulfilled.     She  says  : 


412  Richard  Wagner 

"  My  wisdom  fails, 
But  good-will  remains  ; 
So  full  of  love 
But  failing  in  strength, 
Thou  wilt  despise 
Perchance  the  poor  one, 
Who,  having  giv'n  all. 
Can  grant  thee  no  more." 

Siegfried  gives  her  the  ring  with  a  casual  and  insig- 
nificant remark  that  he  owes  all  his  strength  to  it. 
Brlinnhilde  gives  him  her  steed,  Grani,  which  has  lost 
its  magic  powers  together  with  her.  Compare  this 
with  the  saga  story  of  Sigurd's  choice  of  a  horse. 
The  hero  now  sets  forth,  and  as  the  scene  changes 
we  hear  his  horn  echoing  down  the  Rhine  valley,  and 
the  orchestra  paints  his  journey.  The  second  scene 
shows  us  the  interior  of  the  home  of  Gunther,  the  son 
of  Gibich,  who  is  seated  at  a  table  with  his  sister, 
Gutrune,  and  his  half-brother,  Hagen.  Gunther  is  the 
Gunnar  of  the  saga,  but  Wagner  uses  the  name  from  the 
"  Nibelungen  Lied  "  because  it  is  German.  The  name 
of  Gibich  is  obtained  from  the  "  Lex  Burgundionum  " 
of  Gundohar,  a  Burgundian  king  of  the  fifth  century, 
who  in  it  names,  as  one  of  his  ancestors,  Gibica.  The 
word  is  derived  from  the  same  root  as  Giuki,  the  name 
used  in  the  Volsunga  Saga.  Wagner  gets  the  character 
of  Gunther  from  the  "Nibelungen  Lied,"  where  he  is 
represented  as  a  weak  person,  usually  under  the  influ- 
ence of  others.  Gutrune  is  the  Gudrun  of  the  saga, 
the  daughter  of  Grimhild,  who  employs  magic  to  win 
Siegfried  for  her  child's  spouse.  In  the  "Nibelungen 
Lied"  Chriemhild  is  Gutrune;  the  two  personages 
have  been  moulded  into  one  and  the  magic  eliminated. 
Wagner,  as  we  shall  see,  identifies  the  characters  of 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        4^3 

Gutrune  and  Chriemhild  as  the  Lied  does,  but  retains 
the  magic,  which  is  wielded  by  Hagen  in  furtherance 
of  the  Nibelung's  plan  to  recover  the  ring.  He  also 
retains  the  fact  that  Grimhild  was  Gunther's  mother. 
She  was  also  the  mother  of  Hagen,  having  been  over- 
come by  an  elf — an  idea  which  Wagner  borrowed 
from  the  Thidrek  Saga. 

This  idea  was  essential  to  his  plan  of  making 
Hagen  appear  in  the  drama  as  the  son  of  Alberich. 
It  does  not  consist  with  Wotan's  statement  that  the 
Nibelung  had  won  a  woman  with  gold,  but  that  dis- 
crepancy is  unimportant.  The  point  is  that  Gunther's 
half-brother  is  a  Nibelung,  and  has  been  entrusted  by 
his  father  with  the  task  of  bringing  about  the  down- 
fall of  Siegfried.  Wagner  has  developed  the  character 
of  Hagen  according  to  this  idea,  and  not  accordmg  to 
the  original  sources.  In  the  Thidrek  Saga  and  the 
"Nibelungen  Lied"  Hagen  is  represented  as  a  crafty 
villain,  while  in  the  Volsunga  Saga  he  is  of  noble 
nature  and  will  have  naught  to  do  with  the  plot  against 
Siegfried.  In  the  other  two  poems  he  has  no  motive 
but  malice,  while  Wagner  raises  the  character  to  a 
high  tragic  plane  by  giving  Hagen  the  purpose  of  the 
Nibelungs*  revenge. 

The  second  scene  opens,  then,  with  Hagen  telling 
Gunther  that  he  is  too  long  unwed,  and  that  there 
sleeps  on  a  mountain  surrounded  by  fire  the  woman 
who  should  be  his  bride.  But  she  is  to  be  reached 
only  by  him  who  never  knew  fear.  This  leads  to  a 
narration  of  the  exploits  of  Siegfried,  suggested  by 
the  narrative  of  Hagen  in  the  ' '  Nibelungen  Lied, "  when 
he  sees  Siegfried  approaching  the  Court  of  Gunther. 
Neither  Gunther  nor  Gutrune  learns  what  Hagen  has 


414  Richard  Wagner 

already  been  told  by  Alberich,  that  Siegfried  has  wed 
Brunnhilde  ;  and  so  they  readily  fall  in  with  his  sug- 
gestion that  Gutrune  administer  a  magic  potion  to 
bind  this  great  hero's  heart  to  her.  Siegfried  arrives 
at  the  castle,  and  is  welcomed  by  Gunther,  who  in  the 
mediaeval  style  says  in  effect  :  "All  that  I  have  and  am 
is  yours. "  Siegfried  answers  that  he  has  nothing  but  his 
good  limbs  and  his  home-made  sword  to  offer  in 
return.  Hagen  immediately  asks  him  where  the 
Nibelungs'  hoard  is.  The  hero  replies  that  he  deemed 
it  worthless  and  left  it  in  the  cave,  except  the  Tarn- 
helm,  which  he  has  with  him,  but  does  not  know 
how  to  use.  Hagen  thereupon  explains  the  virtue  of 
it,  and  inquires  where  the  ring  is.  Siegfried  says  it  is 
worn  by  a  woman,  and  Hagen  mutters,  "  Brunnhilde." 
Gutrune  proffers  the  magic  draught.  Siegfried  drinks 
to  Brijnnhilde  and  —  forgets  her.  For  the  drink,  art- 
fully prepared  by  Hagen,  was  one  of  forgetfulness. 
And  here  we  come  upon  a  weak  spot  in  the  drama. 
The  drink  does  not,  as  we  shall  see,  make  Siegfried 
forget  all  the  incidents  leading  up  to  his  winning  of 
BrCinnhilde,  but  only  their  relations.  The  only  plea 
that  can  be  entered  here  is  that  if  we  accept  a  magic 
drink  at  all,  we  must  not  put  logical  limitations  on  its 
powers. 

Siegfried  now  falls  in  with  Hagen's  plan.  He  agrees 
to  go  through  the  fire  and  get  Brunnhilde  for  Gunther. 
provided  he,  in  return  for  the  service,  receives  the 
hand  of  Gutrune.  There  is  no  talk  of  a  futile  attempt 
on  the  part  of  Gunther  to  penetrate  the  flames. 
Siegfried  and  Gunther  swear  blood-brotherhood, 
and  the  two  start  for  the  Valkyr's  rock,  where, 
with  the  help  of  the  Tarnhelm,  they  are  to  exchange 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        4^5 

shapes,  as  in  the  saga.  Hagen,  left  alone,  gloats  over 
the  fact  that  Siegfried  will  bring  him  the  ring.  Once 
more  the  scene  changes  to  the  Valkyr's  rock,  and  we 
meet  with  an  episode  in  the  story  entirely  original 
with  Wagner,  an  episode  of  great  beauty  and  signifi- 
cance. Brunnhilde  hears  once  again  the  sounds  of 
the  passage  of  a  wind-horse,  a  Valkyr  steed.  A  mo- 
ment later  her  sister,  Waltraute,  is  clasped  in  her 
embrace.  Why  has  she  broken  Wotan's  command 
against  visiting  Brunnhilde  ?  Waltraute  says  she  has 
fled  hither  from  Walhalla  in  anguish.  "What  has 
befallen  the  eternal  gods.?"  asks  Brunnhilde,  in  fear. 
Then  Waltraute  gives  a  majestic  description  of  the 
last  gathering  of  the  gods  in  Walhalla,  as  already 
narrated  in  the  Norns'  scene.  Deep  dismay  has  fallen 
on  the  gods.  Wotan  has  sent  his  ravens  out  to  seek 
for  tidings.  This,  according  to  the  Eddas,  he  did 
daily.  Waltraute,  weeping  on  her  father's  breast,  has 
heard  him  say  : 

"  The  day  the  Rhine's  three  daughters 
Gain  by  surrender  from  her  the  ring, 

From  the  curse's  load 
Released  are  gods  and  men." 

This  is  why  Waltraute  has  come.  Wotan  dare  not 
act,  does  not  dream  of  doing  so;  for  the  atonement 
must  be  the  work  of  a  free  agent.  But  a  Valkyr  is  a 
wish-maiden,  Wotan's  will,  and  so  Waltraute,  like 
Brunnhilde  in  "Die  Walkure,"  strives  to  realise  her 
father's  wish.  Will  Brunnhilde  give  back  the  ring  ? 
But  Brunnhilde  is  no  more  a  virgin  Valkyr,  a  mere 
daughter  of  the  gods.  She  is  a  beloved  and  loving 
woman.     The  ring  is  Siegfried's  bridal  gift.     Perish 


41 6  Richard  Wagner 

the  world;  perish  the  eternal  gods;  but  the  ring  shall 
not  leave  her  finger  where  love  kissed  it  into  place. 
Even  as  Briinnhilde  speaks,  the  orchestra  sings  the 
motive  of  Renunciation,  for,  as  Waltraute  flees  in  de- 
spair, the  fire  springs  up  in  defence  of  Briinnhilde  and 
the  beguiled  Siegfried  comes  in  the  Tarnhelm,  wear- 
ing the  face  and  form  of  Gunther,  to  wrest  the  ring 
from  her  and  make  her  the  bride  of  the  son  of  Gibich. 
This  is  tremendous  tragedy;  tenfold  more  tremendous 
than  anything  that  entered  the  minds  of  the  sagamen 
or  the  fashioners  of  the  "  Nibelungen  Lied."  The 
Waltraute  scene,  accentuating,  as  it  does,  Wagner's 
connection  of  the  Nibelung  ring  with  the  burden  of 
guilt  resting  on  the  gods,  presents  in  a  powerful  light 
the  human  tragedy  leading  to  the  restoration  of  the 
rmg  to  its  rightful  owners.  Furthermore,  the  scene 
is  essential  to  a  complete  understanding  of  the  charac- 
ter of  Brunnhilde  in  the  final  drama  of  the  series.  The 
last  despairing  appeal  of  Waltraute  for  the  Aesir  meets 
with  an  answer  which  fully  exhibits  the  change 
wrought  in  Brunnhilde.  When  Wotan  put  her  to 
sleep,  saying,  "So  kQsst  er  die  Gottheit  von  dir,"  he 
was  the  familiar  Wotan  of  the  trilogy,  planning,  but 
seeing  only  half  the  issue  of  his  plan.  When  Siegfried 
laid  the  kiss  of  human  love  upon  the  virgin  lips  of  the 
Valkyr.,  he  it  was  who  truly  kissed  the  godhood  from 
her,  and  left  her  with  a  wholly  human  disregard  for 
the  fading  Aesir.  All  she  has  given  for  love,  and  now 
comes  a  second  claimant  for  her.  Stricken  with  horror 
and  shame,  she  is  driven  into  the  cavern.  Siegfried, 
following,  announces  that  his  sword  shall  lie  between 
them. 

The   second  act   brings   us  back  to  the  castle  of 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        4^7 

Gunther.  Hagen,  still  watching,  is  visited  by  Alberich, 
who  urges  him  to  persistence.  Alberich's  speeches 
impress  upon  us  two  important  points,  namely:  that 
the  curse  cannot  fall  upon  Siegfried,  because  he  is 
ignorant  of  the  powers  of  the  ring,  and  therefore  does 
not  use  them ;  and,  secondly,  that  if  he  should  give  the 
ring  back  to  the  Rhine  maidens  no  art  could  fashion  a 
new  one.  Both  of  these  ideas  are  Wagner's.  The  first 
is  a  natural  outgrowth  of  the  ethical  basis  of  the  drama; 
the  second  was  doubtless  suggested  by  the  old  le- 
gends, which  always  finish  the  story  of  the  hoard  by 
returning  it  to  the  waters.  Siegfried  returns  and 
announces  his  success,  quieting  the  fears  of  Gutrune 
by  telling  her  that  his  sword  lay  between  him  and 
BrLinnhilde.  Here  we  have  an  alteration  of  the  original 
stories  to  suit  modern  taste.  In  the  legends  there  was 
no  question  of  the  relations  of  the  disguised  Siegfried 
and  Brunnhilde,  and  they  existed  with  the  consent  of 
Gunther.  But  in  Wagner's  drama  it  is  made  plain  to  us 
that  Siegfried  was  loyal  in  the  modern  sense,  though 
he  used  an  ancient  symbol  of  honour,  the  sword. 

Gunther  arrives  with  Brunnhilde,  and  she,  seeing 
Siegfried  there  with  Gutrune,  at  once  suspects  treach- 
ery. She  perceives  the  ring  on  Siegfried's  finger,  and 
demands  an  explanation  as  to  how  he  came  by  the 
circlet  which  Gunther  had  wrenched  from  her  hand 
the  previous  night.  This  episode  of  the  ring  is  en- 
tirely different,  as  the  reader  will  note,  from  those  of 
the  Volsunga  Saga  and  the  "Nibelungen  Lied."  But 
it  had  to  be  so,  because  Wagner  had  already  omitted 
the  incident  which,  in  the  sources  of  his  story,  led  to 
Siegfried's  presenting  the  ring  to  his  wife.  Brunn- 
hilde's  questions  about  the  ring  evoke  no  satisfactory 


4i8  Richard  Wagner 

answers,  and  she  bursts  out  with  the  charge  that  not 
Gunther,  but  Siegfried  married  her.  "  He  forced  de- 
lights of  love  from  me  !  "  she  cries.  Siegfried  avows 
that  his  sword  lay  between  them.  But  Brunnhilde  is 
talking  of  a  night  long  previous  to  that  just  passed,  a 
night  of  which  only  she  and  Siegfried  should  know, 
but  which  he,  under  the  influence  of  the  drink,  has 
forgotten.  Brunnhilde  knows  that  her  hearers  are 
ignorant  of  that  night,  but  she  is  bent  upon  implicat- 
ing Siegfried,  and  she  lets  the  assembly  believe  that 
she  is  speaking  of  the  night  just  passed.  Much  good 
ink  has  been  spilled  over  this  scene,  one  party  con- 
tending that  Brunnhilde  was  guilty  of  deceit,  and  the 
other  that  Siegfried  had  been  false  to  his  trust.  The 
intent  of  the  scene  is,  it  seems  to  me,  perfectly  plain, 
but  to  quiet  all  doubts  we  may  go  to  Wagner's  own 
sketch,  "TheNibelung  Myth  as  Sketch  for  a  Drama." 
He  describes  this  point  thus: 

"Siegfried  charges  her  with  shamelessness:  faithful 
had  he  been  to  this  blood  brothership, — his  sword  he 
laid  between  Briinnhilde  and  himself: — he  calls  on  her 
to  bear  him  witness.  Purposely,  and  thinking  only  of 
his  ruin,  she  will  not  understand  him." 

In  a  speech  of  double  meaning,  she  declares  that  the 
sword  hung  in  its  scabbard  on  the  wall  on  the  night 
when  its  master  gained  him  a  true  love.  Siegfried 
swears  to  his  truth  on  the  point  of  Hagen's  spear, 
calling  upon  it  to  pierce  him  if  he  is  false.  This 
is  a  purely  theatric  touch.  This  spear  does  pierce 
him,  yet  was  he  not  false.  Brunnhilde  swears  upon 
the  same  spear  that  Siegfried  has  committed  perjury. 
Thereupon  Siegfried  lightly  says  that  she  is  daft,  and 
bids  the  guests  to  let  the  festivities  proceed.   Brunnhilde 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        419 

now  suspects  some  deviltry,  but  her  runic  wisdom  is 
gone  and  she  cannot  fathom  it.  But  she  can  and  does 
confide  to  Hagen  that  she  had  made  her  hero  invul- 
nerable, except  in  the  back.  Gunther  discerns  that 
he  has  been  dishonoured,  yet  he  is  loath,  for  his  sister's 
sake,  to  be  revenged  upon  Siegfried.  This  makes 
Brunnhilde  all  the  more  furious,  and  she  readily 
assents  to  Hagen's  proposition  that  Siegfried  must  die. 
The  vacillating  Gunther  is  overcome.  Hagen  shouts 
in  triumph  ;  the  ring  and  the  power  will  soon  be  his. 

The  last  act  shows  the  Rhine  maidens  sporting  on 
the  surface  of  the  water  in  a  little  cove  of  the  river. 
Siegfried,  hunting  and  strayed  from  his  party,  appears 
on  the  rocks  above  them.  They  beg  him  to  return  the 
ring,  and  he  is  almost  on  the  point  of  doing  so  when 
they  warn  him  of  its  curse.  He  refuses  to  be  scared 
into  parting  with  it.  This  meeting  with  the  Rhine 
maidens  is  not  found  in  any  of  the  old  stories,  because 
the  ring  which  causes  the  trouble  in  "  Gotterdiimme- 
rung"  is  not  in  any  way  associated  in  the  legends 
with  the  end  of  the  gods.  In  both  the  Thidrek  Saga 
and  the  "Nibelungen  Lied,"  Hagen  is  warned  of  an 
evil  by  mermaids,  and  this  may  barely  have  suggested 
this  scene,  which  so  accentuates  the  immediately  suc- 
ceeding tragedy  of  Siegfried's  death. 

The  hunting  party  arrives,  and  to  cheer  the  gloomy 
Gunther  Siegfried  volunteers  to  tell  the  story  of  his 
youth.  All  this  is  original  with  Wagner.  The  hero 
narrates  the  incidents  of  the  drama  "Siegfried"  to 
a  wonderful  epitome  of  its  music,  up  to  the  slaying  of 
Mime.  Then  Hagen  administers  an  antidote  to  the 
drink  of  forgetfulness,  and  the  hero  reveals  his  dis- 
covery of    Brunnhilde.     Gunther  is   shocked   as   he 


420  Richard  Wagner 

realises  Hagen's  perfidy.  Wotan's  ravens  fly  past, 
and  Hagen  calls  on  Siegfried  to  interpret  their  tones. 
As  the  hero  turns  his  back,  Hagen  drives  the  spear 
into  it.  Siegfried  dies  apostrophising  his  Valkyr  love. 
To  the  strains  of  the  great  funeral  march,  the  body  is 
borne  back  to  the  home  of  the  Gibichs,  and  laid  at  the 
feet  of  Gutrune,  who  is  told,  as  in  the  Thidrek  Saga, 
that  a  wild  boar  slew  her  lord.  She  accuses  Gunther, 
who  promptly  denounces  Hagen.  The  Nibelung  de- 
mands the  ring  ;  Gunther  opposes  him  ;  they  fight, 
and  Gunther  is  slain.  Hagen  reaches  for  the  ring, 
but  the  dead  hand  of  Siegfried  rises  in  solemn  warn- 
ing, and  sends  him  staggering  back  in  terror.  At  this 
juncture  Brunnhilde,  who,  as  we  vaguely  learn  from  the 
text,  has  heard  the  truth  from  the  Rhine  maidens, 
enters  the  hall,  a  picture  of  outraged  majesty. 

After  informing  Gutrune  that  she  was  never  the 
real  wife  of  Siegfried,  Brunnhilde  sums  up  the  de- 
nouement of  the  entire  tragedy  in  a  speech  which 
must  be  carefully  read  by  anyone  desiring  thoroughly 
to  understand  Wagner's  design.  She  perceives  the 
whole  of  Wotan's  plan,  and  upbraids  him  for  throw- 
ing on  a  guiltless  man  the  curse  of  his  own  crime. 
Let  the  ravens  tell  Wotan  that  his  plan  is  accomplished. 
And  let  the  weary  god  have  rest.  She  takes  the  ring 
from  Siegfried's  finger,  and  places  it  upon  her  own. 
When  she  is  burned  with  him  on  the  funeral  pyre, 
the  Rhine  maidens  may  get  the  ring  again.  And 
now  fly  home,  ravens.  Pass  by  the  Valkyr's  rock 
and  bid  the  flickering  Loge  once  more  visit  Walhalla, 
for  the  dusk  of  the  gods  is  at  hand,  and  with  this 
torch  will  the  bride  of  Siegfried  fire  the  towers  of 
Asgard.     Then  she  addresses  the  wondering  retainers 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        421 

and  bids  them,  when  she  is  gone,  to  put  aside  treaties 
and  treacherous  bonds  as  laws  of  life,  and  in  their 
place  to  let  Love  rule  alone.  With  her  steed,  Grani, 
she  mounts  Siegfried's  funeral  pyre.  The  flames  rise 
to  heaven.  Upon  the  Rhine  are  seen  the  three  maid- 
ens, one  of  them  holding  aloft  the  ring.  Hagen 
madly  springs  into  the  water  after  the  accursed  bauble, 
and  is  drawn  under  by  the  maidens  and  drowned. 
The  sky  blazes  and  we  see  the  assembled  gods,  as 
described  by  Waltraute,  sitting  in  the  burning  Wal- 
halia.     It  is  the  "  Gotterdammerung." 

So  ends  the  tragedy.  Nothing  in  the  final  scenes 
closely  resembles  the  original  legends  except  the 
burning  of  Walhalla.  In  the  legends  the  gods  are 
destroyed  in  battle  with  the  powers  of  evil.  Here 
they  die  in  solemn  atonement  for  sin.  And  their 
punishment,  which  is  their  release,  is  accomplished 
by  the  voluntary  sacrifice  of  a  woman  through  love. 
Brunnhilde,  wiser  in  the  end  than  Wotan  himself, 
perfects  and  completes  his  plan.  The  death  of  the 
hero,  innocent  and  unoffending,  was  not  enough. 
The  intentional  sacrifice,  hallowed  by  love,  accom- 
plishes what  all  Wotan's  schemes  failed  to  achieve. 
The  ethical  plot  of  the  drama  is  finished.  "The 
eternal  feminine  leadeth  us  upward  and  on." 

This  glorious  Brunnhilde  of  Wagner  is  a  grander 
figure  than  any  conceived  by  the  sagamen.  Dimly, 
indeed,  may  her  sacrifice  be  connected  with  the  death 
of  Nanna,  the  wife  of  Baldur,  the  bright  one,  who 
could  not  outlive  her  husband.  But  that  death  was 
merely  from  a  broken  heart.  This  one  is  a  magnifi- 
cent atonement. 

Baldur's  horse,    fully  caparisoned,  was  led  to  his 


42  2  Richard  Wagner 

master's  pyre.  Wotan  placed  on  the  pile  his  ring, 
Draupner,  which  every  ninth  night  produced  eight 
other  rings.  But  none  of  these  incidents  have  the 
enormous  significance  of  Wagner's  final  scene.  His 
reconstruction  of  the  story  of  the  end  of  the  gods, 
of  their  release  from  the  burden  of  sin  by  a  voluntary, 
vicarious  sacrifice,  raises  the  poetic  issue  of  his  drama 
to  a  plane  far  above  the  conceptions  of  the  old  Norse 
and  Teutonic  skalds.  With  "  Der  Ring  des  Nibe- 
lungen,"  in  spite  of  its  defects,  Wagner  set  himself 
beside  the  Greek  dramatists. 

111. — The  Music  of  the  Trilogy 

In  "Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen  "  the  leitmotiv  sys- 
tem is  found  at  its  best.  In  this  gigantic  and  complex 
drama  it  provides  a  musical  aid  to  an  understanding 
of  the  intent  of  the  dramatist.  It  is  a  running  com 
mentary  on  the  action,  a  ceaseless  revealer  of  inner 
thoughts  and  motives.  And,  owing  to  the  develop- 
ment of  plot  and  character,  the  musical  device  of 
thematic  development  is  employed  with  admirable 
effect  in  this  work.  Unfortunately  for  the  credit  of 
Wagner,  the  typical  handbook  of  these  dramas,  and  the 
fashionable  "Wagner  Lecture,"  which  consists  of 
telling  the  story  and  playing  the  principal  motives  on 
a  piano,  have  gone  far  to  convey  wholly  erroneous 
ideas  of  this  unique  musical  system.  The  hearer  of 
the  lecture  and  the  reader  of  the  handbook  are  led  to 
suppose  that  the  score  consists  of  a  string  of  discon- 
nected phrases,  arbitrarily  formed  and  capriciously 
titled,  and  that  this  is  the  whole  result  of  the  system. 

The  truth  is  that  the  score  becomes  symphonic  in 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        423 

scope.  The  various  motives  are  invented  with  a  pro- 
found insight  into  the  philosophy  of  musical  expres- 
sion and  are  repeated  or  developed  according  to  the 
principles  of  musico-dramatic  art  formulated  in  the 
mind  of  Wagner  when  he  had  fully  elaborated  his 
theory  of  the  organic  union  of  the  text  and  the  music. 
Readmg  the  handbooks  or  hearing  the  lectures  and 
afterward  recognising  the  motives  as  they  appear  in 
the  dramas,  even  when  their  significance  is  known,  is 
not  all  that  Wagner  asks  of  one  who  attempts  to  un- 
derstand his  system.  It  is  necessary  to  study  the 
scores  very  thoroughly,  to  note  the  intimate  union  of 
text  and  music,  to  observe  the  changes  which  motives 
undergo  when  new  shades  of  meaning  are  to  be  ex- 
pressed, to  grasp  the  treatment  of  rhythm  and  tonality 
and  the  formation  and  expansion  of  themes,  and  gen- 
erally to  follow  the  composer  through  the  various 
ramifications  of  the  most  elaborate  plan  for  dramatic 
expression  in  music  ever  invented. 

On  the  other  hand,  none  of  this  study  is  essential  to 
a  mere  enjoyment  of  these  dramas.  For  that,  only  a 
perfect  comprehension  of  the  text  is  necessary;  if  you 
know  what  the  characters  are  saying  and  doing,  the 
music  will  do  its  own  work.  It  will  create  the  right 
mood  for  you,  though  you  do  not  know  the  name  of 
a  single  leading  theme.  But  the  thematic  system  is 
there,  and  to  understand  it  will  add  enormously  to 
your  intellectual  and  artistic  pleasure  and  give  Wagner 
a  far  higher  position  in  your  estimation  than  he  would 
otherwise  occupy.  Only,  if  you  intend  to  study  it,  do 
not  treat  it  as  if  it  were  nothing  more  than  a  thematic 
catalogue.  What  I  am  about  to  put  before  the  reader 
cannot  claim  to  be  more  than  some  pertinent  hints. 


424 


Richard  Wagner 


An  exhaustive  study  of  these  scores  would  fill  a 
volume. 

Let  the  reader  refer  to  the  classification  of  motives 
given  in  Chapter  III.  of  "  The  Artistic  Aimsof  Wagner " 
(page  193),  and  apply  it  to  the  themes  now  to  be  con- 
sidered. He  will  find  in  these  scores  all  the  classes 
there  enumerated  and  will  note  that  they  are  used  and 
developed  with  extraordmary  skill. 

After  the  preliminary  measures  of  the  introduction 
to  "Das  Rheingold,"  we  hear  the  first  guiding  theme 
of  the  drama,  the  motive  of  the  Primeval  Elements: 

PRIMEVAL  ELEMENTS. 


This  motive  plays  an  important  part  in  the  trilogy. 
When  Erda  rises  from  the  earth  in  the  last  scene  of 
the  prologue  we  hear  this  same  theme  in  the  minor 
mode,  and  we  at  once  perceive  that  by  this  simple 
process  of  musical  development  Wagner  associates  her 
with  the  primeval  elements  (earth,  air,  and  water),  but 
emphasises  the  sadness  of  her  character  and  her  pe- 
culiar office  in  the  tragedy  as  a  prophetess  of  woe. 
When  she  utters  the  words,  "  Ein  Dust'rer  Tag  dam- 
mert  den  Gottern  '  ("A  dismal  day  dawns  for  the 
Aesir"),  we  hear  her  motive  first  in  its  natural  form, 
and  then  inverted,  and  we  then  learn  that  this  inver- 
sion has  an  especial  meaning,  the  end  of  the  gods,  the 
"  Gotterdiimmerung  " : 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        425 


B-GOTTERDAMMERUNG. 


Ein  dust'  -  rer  Tag  dammert  den  Gottern 

Now  let  US  turn  to  the  scene  in  which  Waltraute 
comes  to  tell  Brunnhilde  how  Wotan  has  had  the  ash 
cut  down,  hewn  into  faggots,  and  assembled  the  gods 
to  wait  for  the  end.  in  the  accompaniment  to  her 
words  appears  the  Erda  theme,  originally  that  of  the 
Primeval  Elements  which  surrounded  the  Rhinegold, 
transformed  into  a  stately  progression  of  octaves. 
Presently  over  these  we  hear  the  Walhalla  theme,  and 
then  the  octaves  descend  in  a  new  development  of 
the  "Gotterdiimmerung  "  theme: 

WALTRAUTE. 


p 


:t=:^J^-JMv 


^r^g^'^-^>-g 


=ff=^ 


and     ar  -  range   in  a    bulk,  'round  the  Aesir's  sanctified 


426 


Richard  Wagner 


s^^a^^^ 


Turn  next  to  the  last  scene  of  all,  to  the  entrance  of 
Briinnhiide.     We  find  that  the  music  is  this: 


Brunnhilde  has  come  to  fulfil  the  prophecy  of  Erda; 
the  dusk  of  the  gods  is  at  hand.  And  so  when  she 
commands  the  retainers  to  erect  the  funeral  pyre, 
which  is  kindled  at  Walhalla,  we  hear  once  again  the 
"Gotterdammerung  "  theme  as  it  was  introduced  to  us 
in  the  Waltraute  scene: 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        427 


MoUo  largamento  e  piu  lento 


This  is  an  excellent  demonstration  of  the  leitmotiv 
system  in  its  fullest  expansion,  and  it  should  warn  the 
reader  against  accepting  these  themes  as  merely  arbi- 
trary labels.  Let  him  always  seek  for  their  musical 
philosophy  and  their  relations  to  one  another. 

When  the  Rhine  maidens  appear  swimming  around 
the  rock  in  which  lies  the  gold,  they  sing  these  ca- 
balistic words  and  this  melodious  music  : 

RHINE  DAUGHTERS. 


Wei  -  a   wa  -  ga  1  Wo-ge,    du  Wei  -  le,     wal  •  le    zar  Wie  -  ge  1 


Wa  -  ga  -  la  Wei  -  a !    Wa  ■  la  -  la,  wel  -  a  -  la,    wel    -     a  1 

Presently,  as  narrated  in  the  story,  the  gold  dis- 
closes itself,  and  we  hear  the  ascending  theme  of  the 
Appearing  Gold  : 

THE  APPEARING  GOLD. 


Trumpet. 


But  when  the  maidens  burst  into  song  in  its  praise, 
they  sing  this  : 


428 


Richard  Wagner 


THE  GLEAMING  GOLD. 


RiB*fci^ 

^■--^-^ 

hj^S_g  J?J,,^ 

1    s     fc  ,>  ^     g    J     II 

^^ 

4- — ^^^ 

1  :  g    * — m w — S — '- 

^Rheingold!  Rheingold  Leuch-ten-de  Lust,  ^e  lachst  du  so  hell  und  helir! 
"  "        Lust'rous  de-light  thou  laugliest  in  radiance  rare  I 

The  first  measures  of  this  melody  are  employed 
throughout  the  drama  to  signify  the  gold.  Examina- 
tion will  show  that  the  words  "Rheingold!  Rhein- 
gold  I  "  are  sung  to  precisely  the  same  melodic  form 
as  "  Weia  "  at  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  the  phrase 
quoted  from  the  Rhine  daughters'  music.  Here,  again, 
we  see  how  Wagner  persists  in  preserving  the  mu- 
sical associations  of  allied  themes,  and  of  deriving  one 
from  the  other  in  the  symphonic  style.  In  the  last  act 
of  "Gotterdammerung."  when  the  maidens  warn 
Siegfried  of  coming  evil,  they  sing  his  name  to  the 
Rhinegold  theme  in  the  minor  mode.  The  significance 
of  this  is  unmistakable. 

At  the  first  mention  of  the  ring,  we  hear  the  Ring 
theme  : 

THE  RING. 


^ 


f 


igg^g-i-gi;^-^ 


&c. 


This  theme  is  subjected  to  so  many  developments 
that  they  cannot  be  enumerated  in  a  work  of  this 
kind.  A  single  glance,  however,  will  show  the 
reader  how  closely  related  it  is  to  the  "Gotterdam- 
merung" motive.  In  certain  passages,  as  in  the  scene 
between  Brunnhilde  and  the  disguised  Siegfried  in 
"Gotterdammerung"  this  theme  and  the  Walhalla 
theme  are  combined,  by  an  ingenious  use  of  the  rhythm 
and  melodic  sequence  of  the  one  with  the  melody  and 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        429 


harmony  of  the  other,  to  identify  Brunnhiide's  person- 
ality with  possession  of  the  ring.  Other  important 
motives  introduced  early  in  the  "  Rheingold  "  are  the 
following  : 


RENUNCIATION. 


$ 


"s~  \\b0. 


fciC 


-j—s—t)- 


5S 


=S=:S: 


Nun  wer  der  Minnie  Macbt  ent-sagt,  nur  wer  der  Lie  -  be  Lust  ver-jagt 
But  he  who  passion's  power  forswears  and  from  delights  of  love  forbears 


WALHALLA 


COMPACT. 


^Trombones. 


GIANTS. 


^r^r— jSg^  jf^r-^f:-f^rY  rr^^bm- m -f^ ^-f-. 


^^^  11     I     *  !    .^-1— •^ 1 


-t=rcr — ^ 


The  Renunciation  theme  is  employed  throughout  the 
tragedy  to  signify  renunciation  without  regard  to  its 
original  connection  with  the  ring.  The  Walhalla  mo- 
tive indicates  not  only  the  place,  but  the  origin  of 
persons  who  come  thence.  In  this  sense  it  is  some- 
times applied  to  Brunnhilde,  as  well  as  to  Wotan. 
The  next  theme  of  significance  is  that  of  the  Tarnhelm 
(see  page  195).  Here,  again,  we  meet  with  a  theme 
for  which  there  is  a  companion  closely  associated 
with  it  in  form  and  in  the  action  of  the  drama.  This 
is  the  theme  of  Forgetfulness,  heard  in  "  Gotterdam- 
merung  "  when  Siegfried  takes  the  drink  offered  him  by 
Gutrune.     The  close  relationship  in  the  meaning  of 


430 


Richard  Wagner 


these  themes  is  best  displayed  in  the  scene  of  Sieg- 
fried's arrival  at  the  Valkyr's  rock  in  the  guise  of 
Gunther.  Briinnhilde  says  :  "What  man  art  thou  ?" 
And,  as  Siegfried  stands  at  the  rear  and  begins  his 
answer,  we  hear  these  three  motives  in  succession  — 
Forgetfulness,  Gibichung,  and  Tarnhelm. 


The  meaning  is  clear,  and  the  kinship  of  the  Forget- 
fulness and  Tarnhelm  themes  unmistakable.  Siegfried 
uses  the  Tarnhelm  but  this  once  in  the  whole  tragedy, 
and  uses  it  because  of  the  forgetfulness  and  in  the 
guise  of  a  Gibichung. 
When  Freia  has  been  carried  off  by  the  giants  to 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        431 

wait  for  Wotan's  decision  as  to  the  ransom,  Loge 
taunts  tile  gods  with  their  pallor  and  failing  glory. 
As  part  of  the  accompaniment  to  his  speech,  we  hear 
the  motive  of  Departing  Divinity  : 


DEPARTING   DIVINITY. 

^^5r^. 1 

im-^ 

r^^^-^fa 

"¥ 

41     

— !— 1 

z:r- 

: i 

/                  /•'     

i^-^n^^ 

_i r-J— 

-r^-=)r-r, rrrJ — 

"iH h'^ — 

-rd — i~ 

^^-T-' 

\^s}hm  L: 

\^^f=^ 

h^dr-^ 

te  -1 

Now  turn  to  the  last  scene  of  "Die  Walkure,"  and 
when  Wotan  tells  Brlinnhilde  that  he  will  plunge  her 
into  unbreaking  sleep  we  hear  this  same  motive  in 
this  form  : 


The  theme  is  heard  again  in  its  fullest  harmonies 
when  the  god  kisses  her  eyes  and  she  sinks  to  sleep. 
Here,  again,  Wagner  uses  uncertainty  of  tonality  to 
produce  an  effect  of  mystery  in  his  music. 

At  the  entrance  of  Loge  we  hear  another  important 
motive,  that  of  the  fire-god  : 

LOGE. 


432 


Richard  Wagner 


From  this  is  developed  the  magic  fire  music  of  "Die 
Walkure,"  and  the  theme  is  heard  frequently  through- 
out the  trilogy.  Sometimes  it  ascends,  and  again  it 
descends,  and  at  times  it  becomes  purely  melodic  in 
the  diatonic  scale  and  the  major  mode,  but  it  never 
loses  its  flickering,  wavering  character.  When  Wotan 
and  Loge  descend  into  Nibelheim,  we  hear  the  im- 
portant theme  of  the  Nibelungs,  the  smiths  : 


NIBELUNG  SMITHS. 


^ 


This  is  heard  very  often  in  the  tragedy,  and  always 
signifies  the  Nibelung  race.  Alberich's  appearance, 
driving  before  him  the  Nibelungs,  who  have  become 
his  slaves  through  the  power  of  the  ring,  introduces 
the  theme  of  Alberich's  mastery  : 


ALBERICH,  MASTER  OF  THE  NIBELUNGS. 


t^^git     B^J^      ^ 


tl=^       tt*" 


As  it  was  the  Rhinegold  which  made  him  lord  of 
the  Nibelungs,  the  theme  is  compounded  of  the  Rhine- 
gold  motive  and  that  of  the  Nibelungs,  the  latter  being 
brought  to  a  firm  and  definite  close  with  a  major 
chord.  With  the  entrance  of  the  dwarfs  carrying  the 
gold,  we  hear  the  theme  of  the  Hoard  : 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        433 


THE  HOARD. 


^ 


W- 


3-    bS 


W 


3^ 


lit 


=1; 


-iSi-      3? 
3      5 


3 


The  Dragon   motive   appears   when   Alberich   trans- 
forms himself  for  the  first  time  : 


THE  DRAGON. 


m 


:qs=t: 


5Mt 


^ 


^t=^-- 


Fsr 


^■1- 


ESfS^ 


-B«- 


i^ 


^' 


El?^^ 


4»= 


!»= 


^■t 


This  theme  is  employed  again  in  "Siegfried"  for  the 
transformed  "  Fafner."  The  motive  of  the  Nibelung's 
Hate  is  used  very  often  in  "  Siegfried  "  and  "  Gotter- 
dammerung,"  as  well  as  in  the  prologue  : 

THE  NIBELUNG'S  HATE. 


The  instrumentation  of  this  theme,  the  lower  part 
being  given  to  strings  and  the  upper  to  clarinets,  is 
especially  expressive.  It  has  a  snarl  and  a  sneer.  The 
next  important  theme  introduced  in  the  prologue  is 
that  of  the  Curse  : 

THE  CURSE. 


Albhkich.- 

Wie  dnrch  Flach  er  mlr  ge  -  ricth      ver  -  flucht    sel    die8-er    Ring! 
As  tlirougn  curse  to  me    it    came,      ac  -  curs  -  ed      be  this  ring  1 
28 


434 


Richard  Wagner 


This  is  heard  when  Fafner  kills  Fasolt,  and  through- 
out the  drama  at  points  where  the  curse  is  especially 
significant,  as  at  the  death  of  Siegfried.  The  Sword 
theme  (see  page  195)  appears  when  Wotan  conceives 
his  plan.  I  have  not  given  the  minor  themes,  which 
are  heard  only  in  the  "Vorabend,"  such  as  those  of 
Fricka,  Froh,  and  Freia.  Conner's  theme  is  of  little 
import,  being  heard  again  only  in  the  storm  music  in 
"Walkure."  There  is  along  list  of  minor  themes, 
but  their  significance  can  always  be  learned  from  the 
text. 

In  "Die  Walkure"  a  number  of  significant  motives 
not  heard  in  the  prologue  are  brought  forward.  The 
first  of  these  indicates  the  gentle  and  sympathetic  per- 
sonality of  Sieglinde  : 


SIEGLINDE'S  SYMPATHY 
=3S 


Next  comes  the  Love  motive,  a  melody  of  some  length, 
written  for  celli,  and  full  of  feeling  : 


LOVE. 


These  two  motives  belong  particularly  to  this  drama  ; 
they  do  not  figure  in  the  other  works.     In  the  first 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        435 

act,  however,  appear  two  themes  which  are  used 
thereafter  throughout  the  tragedy,  the  themes  of  the 
Volsungs'  sorrow  and  the  Volsung  race  : 


SORROW  OF  THE  VOLSUNGS. 


Wit=^=^ 


m 


k^ 


P^^r-fp^r^:^ 


?2^ 


:?c^: 


?z: 


m 


THE  VOLSUNG  RACE. 


.^.  S: 


The  reappearance  of  the  Sword  motive  (see  pageig^) 
in  this  act  should  be  noted  for  its  pregnant  meaning. 
Siegmund  calls  upon  his  father  and  says,  "  Where  is 
the  promised  sword  ?"  The  firelight  at  this  instant 
strikes  the  hilt  of  the  sword  m  the  tree,  and  the  orches- 
tra gives  out  the  Sword  theme  with  almost  startling 
effect.  It  would  be  superfluous  to  trace  the  manifold 
treatment  of  the  various  melodic  fragments  through 
the  score.  The  hearer  of  the  works  cannot  fail  to  be- 
come acquainted  with  their  import.  The  motive  of 
the  Volsung  race  is  especially  touching  in  its  noble 
dignity  and  melancholy.  It  epitomises  in  a  fragment 
of  music  the  nature  and  suffering  of  the  unhappy 


436 


Richard  Wagner 


Volsungs.  Much  of  the  music  of  the  first  act  is  freely 
composed,  the  love  song  and  most  of  the  duet  being 
thus  written.  A  motive  indicative  of  the  personality 
of  Hunding  will  be  easily  recognised  when  heard. 
With  the  openmg  of  the  second  act  we  make  the 
acquaintance  of  two  motives  associated  with  Brunn- 
hilde  in  her  character  of  Valkyr: 

THE  VALKYR'S  CALL. 

-I !■ 


THE  VALKYRS. 


•i-.r- 


•ff£=U= 


I    1     L 


SEii 


t=t^^ 


The  second  of  these  is  afterward  used  whenever  the 
nature  of  the  Valkyr  is  of  significance  in  the  drama. 
The  theme,  it  will  be  noted,  is  designed  rhythmically 
to  suggest  the  motion  of  the  Valkyr  steed.  When 
Fricka  imposes  upon  Wotan  the  oath  to  honour  her 
rights,  we  hear  the  theme  of  Wotans  Wrath,  a  wrath 
in  which  there  is  a  deep  note  of  pathos: 

WOTAN'S   WRATH. 


m 


rElE 


ZMZZgZ 


^=t: 


sf 


When  Wotan  informs  Briinnhilde  that  only  a  free 
hero  can  make  the  atonement,  we  hear  this  theme 
beautifully  combined  with  the  Erda  theme  and  a  sug- 
gestion of  the  "Gotterdammerung"  motive: 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        437 


WOTAN. 


Nur    El    - 
But    one 


-    ner    konn-te  was  Ich  nicht  darf: 
may  compass  what  I     must  leave, 


Bin 
A 


Held,  dem  helf    -     end     nle  .  ichmichnelgt 

he    -    ro  held  by      none of  our    num 

-•-''^-•-^-It    :g:        3:       :gf'^:S>.2: 


e, 

-    ber, 


It  is  by  such  wonderful  combinations  of  the  guiding 
themes  that  the  scores  of  these  dramas  become  so  rich 
in  variety,  beauty,  and  meaning.  The  significance  of 
this  passage  is  clear  and  eloquent.  The  plan  must  fail 
and  the  dusk  of  the  gods  must  come.  The  phrase 
marked  A  is  usually  designated  the  theme  of  the 
"Gods'  Stress."  It  is  plainly,  however,  the  Erda 
theme  and  a  variant  of  the  "  Gotterdammerung." 
When  Siegmund  sits  on  the  rock  with  Sieglinde 
fainting  in  his  arms,  we  hear  for  the  first  time  the 
motive  of  Fate,  often  used  afterward : 

FATE.         

-J: 


438 


Richard  Wagner 


The  treatment  of  the  "  Todesverkundigung"  is  free, 
the  theme  being  heard  only  in  that  scene.  Motives 
already  made  known  form  the  warp  of  the  score  to 
the  end  of  the  act,  and  the  third  act  opens  with  the 
familiar  "  Ride  of  the  Valkyrs"  built  on  the  Valkyr's 
Call  and  the  Valkyr  theme.  When  Brunnhilde  in- 
forms Sieglinde  that  she  is  to  be  the  mother  of  the 
"highest  hero  of  worlds,"  we  hear  for  the  first  time 
the  magnificent  Siegfried  theme,  which  is  to  play  such 
an  important  part  in  the  remainder  of  the  tragedy: 


And   in    response  to  this   announcement    Sieglinde 
sings  thus: 


«J  SiHGLIl 


-m. ^ 


-^=- 


SlHGLINDE — . 

O       heh 
0       glo 


re  -  stes    Wun 
ri  -   ous     won 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        439 

This  theme  is  heard  again  at  the  close  of  the  last 
scene  of  "Gotterdammerung,  "  and  there  we  instantly 
recognise  its  significance  as  an  embodiment  of  the 
glorious  divinity  of  Brunnhilde,  the  divinity  of  ideal 
womanhood,  ennobled  by  love  and  sanctified  by  sacri- 
fice. Another  significant  motive  heard  in  this  scene 
is  that  of  Slumber: 

SLUMBER. 


This,  with  the  Fire  and  Siegfried  themes,  forms  the 
magnificent  closing  passage  of  this  drama.  The 
melody  of  Wotan's  farewell,  though  it  can  hardly  be 
described  as  a  leitmotiv,  reappears  with  beautiful 
effect  in  Waltraute's  narrative,  when  she  tells  of 
Wotan"s  sadness. 

In  "Siegfried"  we  meet  with  a  score  which  con- 
tains a  great  amount  of  freely  composed  music.  There 
is  so  much  that  is  external  and  incidental  in  this  work 
that  the  constant  employment  of  guiding  themes  was 
unnecessary.  The  result  is  that  we  enter  an  atmos- 
phere of  buoyant,  jubilant  out-door  life,  full  of  the 
vigour  and  sweetness  of  spring  and  young  manhood. 
The  whole  of  the  scene  of  the  forging  of  the  sword  is 
sung  in  music  aglow  with  the  flame  of  the  forge,  alive 
with  the  rhythm  of  the  bellows  and  the  hammer.  The 
forest  scene  gives  us  the  bird  music  and  the  "Wald- 
weben,"  freely  written,  the  latter  a  mood  picture, 
using  only  the  Volsung  theme  as  a  reminder.  Wotan's 
splendid  summons  to  Erda  is  free  music,  and  in  the 
matchless  scene  of  the  awakening  we  hear  much  that 
is  new  and  belongs  only  to  "  Siegfried." 


440 


Richard  Wagner 


The  first  of  the  important  new  themes  is  that  in- 
toned by  the  young  hero's  horn.  It  is  the  theme  of 
Siegfried,  the  buoyant,  fearless,  militant  youth: 


SIEGFRIED,  THE  YOUTH. 


P 


^=S=W=- 


Out  of  this  theme  and  that  of  the  Sword,  the  melo- 
dies and  rhythms  being  combined  perfectly,  is  made 
the  brilliant  motive  of  Siegfried,  the  hero  who  welds 
and  wields  the  sword: 


SIEGFRIED,  THE  SWORD  WIELDER- 


This  is  heard  often  in  the  early  part  of  the  work. 
Wotan,  disguised  as  a  wanderer,  is  indicated  by  a 
theme  without  tonality,  which,  therefore,  belongs  to 
the  same  class  as  the  Tarnhelm  and  Departing  Divinity 
motives: 

WOTAN,  THE  WANDERER. 


In  the  second  act,  while  Siegfried  is  alone  in  the 
forest,  is  heard  this  beautiful  and  significant  theme: 


YEARNING  FOR  LOVE. 


rf^r 

^ h — (- 

X 

r^ ^^^ N 

— I— 

r   J      Jn 

-#-- 

'l 

1 

-J-^-^ 

N- 

— s — ^ — 1 — 

nH 0 — itS 

Sii^J- 

r- 

Wz — r- 

h — 

*   1 
0  .■■       ■ 

Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        441 


After  this,  till  the  first  scene  of  the  third  act,  the 
listener  will  not  hear  any  motive  of  high  import.  All 
is  either  free  music  or  the  employment  of  themes 
whose  significance  has  been  previously  made  known. 
But  in  the  opening  of  the  last  act  appears  the  splendid 
melody  of  the  Heritage  of  the  World,  which  is  used  to 
embody  the  readiness  of  Wotan  to  resign  himself  to 
his  approaching  fate  and  to  hand  over  his  kingdom  to 
the  new  race: 


THE  WORLD'S  HERITAGE. 


Wonderful,  too,  are  the  strains  which  accompany 
the  arrival  of  Siegfried  at  the  top  of  the  Valkyr's 
mountain,  but  most  wonderful  is  the  music  of  Briinn- 
hilde's  Awakening: 


BRUNNHILDE'S  AWAKENING. 


442 


Richard  Wagner 


tr  tr 


*:*     ^\ 


3=^ 


-^rg-S-I-j^ 


m 


This  is  only  a  fragment  of  it,  but  it  contains  the 
pregnant  phrase  of  marvellous  beauty  which  returns 
with  such  agonising  eloquence  in  the  final  speeches  of 
the  dying  Siegfried  in  "Gotterdammerung."  When 
the  Valkyr  maid  is  awake  and  has  recognised  Sieg- 
fried, their  voices  unite  in  the  passionate  measure  of  a 
duet,  founded  on  the  motive  of  Love's  Greeting; 


LOVE'S  GREETING. 

-0- 


In  "Gotterdammerung,"  when  Siegfried  raises  the 
drink  of  forgetfulness  to  his  lips,  he  drinks  to  the 
memory  of  Brunnhilde  and  intones  the  words  to  this 
very  theme.  That  is  one  of  Wagner's  most  poignant 
strokes  of  musical  pathos.  The  drama  of  ' '  Siegfried  " 
comes  to  its  end  with  a  sweep  of  overmastering  pas- 
sion. The  themes  are  peculiar  to  this  work,  but  most 
of  them  are  heard  in  the  lovely  "Siegfried  Idyl,"  so 
often  played  in  concert. 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen        443 

"Gotterdammerung"  opens  with  a  repetition  of 
known  tliemes  in  the  Norn  scene.  In  the  second 
scene  we  meet  with  two  new  ideas,  the  themes  of 
Brunnhilde,  the  woman,  and  Siegfried,  the  mature 
hero  : 

BRIJNNHILDE,  THE  WOMAN. 


SIEGFRIED,  THE  MAN. 


The  first  of  these  expresses  very  beautifully  the 
loving,  clinging  nature  of  the  transformed  Valkyr. 
The  second  is  a  thematic  development  of  the  motive 
of  Siegfried,  the  youth.  The  change  is  chiefly  one  of 
rhythm.  Siegfried,  the  youth,  is  depicted  musically 
in  six- eighth  measure,  a  rhythm  buoyant  and  piquant. 
For  Siegfried,  the  mature  hero,  the  melodic  sequence 
is  preserved,  but  the  rhythm  is  changed  to  a  dual  one. 
The  change  is  one  founded  on  the  nature  of  music, 
for  the  dual  rhythm  is  firm,  square,  and  solid.  The 
injection  of  minor  harmony  at  the  end  is  heard  in 
the  first  announcement  of  this  theme  and  serves  to 
indicate  approaching  sorrow.  This  motive  rises  to  its 
grandest  development  in  the  funeral  march  after  Sieg- 
fried's death,  when  the  orchestra  passes  in  review,  in 
a  composition  of  wonderful  beauty  and  power,  the 
themes  most  closely  associated  with  him.  This  theme 
forms  the  climax  of  the  march  and  is  pealed  forth  by 
the  brass  in  this  form  : 


444 


Richard  Wagner 


Two  other  new  themes  heard  in  "  Gotterdammerung" 
are  worthy  of  note.  They  are  that  of  Gutrune  and 
that  of  Brunnhilde's  Despair,  the  former  appearing  in 
the  third  scene  of  the  first  act  and  the  latter  in  the 
second  act  : 


There  are  also  themes  for  Gunther,  the  Gibichung 
(already  quoted),  and  for  Hagen.  But  "Gotterdam- 
merung "  is  most  wonderful,  musically,  for  the  manner 
in  which  the  themes  of  the  earlier  dramas  are  repeated 
in  it.  The  expressiveness  of  the  system  is  nowhere 
more  forcibly  illustrated  than  in  the  hero's  narrative  of 
his  youthful  days,  when  the  most  significant  themes 
of  "Siegfried"  pass  before  us,  bringing  the  whole 
story  back  in  all  its  vitality.  And  in  the  death  of  the 
hero  and  the  wonderful  apostrophe  of  BrQnnhilde 
again  we  find  that  the  recapitulation  or  development 
of  familiar  themes  knits  for  us  the  substance  of  the 
long  tragedy  into  a  perfect  texture  of  poetry.  And 
with  the  use  of  the  many-voiced  orchestra  Wagner 


Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen       445 

weaves  these  motives  into  a  glittering  web  of  coun- 
terpoint, which  cannot  be  copied  even  faintly  by  the 
piano  arrangement.  Several  motives  are  sometimes 
heard  at  once,  and  by  the  aid  of  the  device  of  instru- 
mental colouring  their  expressiveness  is  greatly  height- 
ened. 

Thus  the  orchestra  becomes  an  actor  in  the  drama, 
continually  commenting  on  the  passing  action,  reveal- 
ing to  us  the  hidden  well-springs  of  emotion,  explain- 
ing thoughts  to  us  and  flooding  the  whole  drama 
with  the  light  of  its  eloquence.  Not  by  the  mere 
cataloguing  then  of  these  themes  are  we  to  arrive  at 
a  full  understanding  of  the  composer's  intent,  but  by 
a  careful  study  of  their  repetitions  and  developments. 
The  knowledge  thus  gained  will  add  immeasurably  to 
the  intellectual  pleasure  of  the  hearer ;  but,  as  1  have 
already  said,  Wagner's  music  makes  the  right  mood 
pictures  even  for  him  who  does  not  know  the  guiding 
themes.  And  that  is  one  of  the  most  satisfying  proofs 
of  his  greatness. 


PARSIFAL 
A  Sacred  Stage  Festival  Play  in  Three  Acts. 
First  Performed  at  Bayreuth,  July  26,  1882. 


Original  Cast. 

Parsifal 

Winkelmann 

Amfortas     . 

Reichmann 

Titurel 

Kindermann 

Klingsor 

Hill 

Gurnemanz 

Scaria 

Kundry 

_i                C         *t_!_          _.1_       !_              * 

Materna 

11      1       It      1            .1 

The  copyright  of  this  work  is  still  held  by  the 
Wagner  family,  and  hence  the  drama  has  not  yet  been 
performed  outside  of  the  Festival  Playhouse  at  Bay- 
reuth. 


446 


PARSIFAL 
I. — The  Original  Legends 

The  last  of  the  great  music  dramas  of  Richard  Wag- 
ner began  to  occupy  his  mind  as  early  as  1857.  P^'o- 
fessor  William  Tappert  says:  "  Wagner  told  me  (in 
1877)  that  in  the  fifties,  when  in  Zurich,  he  took  pos- 
session of  a  charming  new  house,  and  that,  inspired  by 
the  beautiful  spring  weather,  he  wrote  out  the  sketch 
that  very  day  of  the  Good  Friday  music."  A  letter  to 
the  tenor  Tichatschek  defines  the  year  as  1857.  The 
poem  was  completed  in  1877,  and  on  May  17  of  that 
year  was  read  to  an  assembly  of  Wagner's  friends  at 
the  house  of  Mr.  Edward  Dannreuther,  in  Orme  Square, 
London.  It  was  read  to  the  delegates  of  the  Wagner 
Societies  at  Villa  Wahnfried,  Bayreuth,  on  Sept.  16,  and 
was  published  in  December.  Wagner  was  in  his 
sixty-fifth  year  when  he  set  to  work  to  write  out  the 
music.  The  sketch  of  the  first  act  was  finished  in  the 
spring  of  1878.  The  second  act  was  completed  on 
Oct.  II,  and  the  sketch  of  the  third,  begun  after 
Christmas,  was  finished  in  April,  1879.  The  instru- 
mentation was  begun  almost  immediately  afterwards, 
and  was  completed  at  Palermo,  Jan.  13,  1882. 

As  we  have  already  seen,  it  was  while  gathering  the 
materials  for  "Tannhiiuser"  and  "Lohengrin"  that 

447 


448  Richard  Wagner 

the  character  and  writings  of  Wolfram  vonEschenbach 
became  known  to  Wagner.  His  famous  epic,  "  Par- 
zival,"  is  the  immediate  source  of  Wagner's  drama, 
but  the  origin  of  such  a  remarkable  art-product  cannot 
be  dismissed  with  this  simple  statement.  Wagner's 
drama  opens  to  us  the  entire  field  of  Arthurian  romance 
and  the  whole  circle  of  legends  of  the  Holy  Grail. 
These  old  tales  have  played  so  important  a  part  in  the 
literature  of  our  own  time,  as  well  as  in  that  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  that  it  seems  fitting  and  proper  that  we 
should  seize  this  opportunity  for  a  glance  over  the 
whole  ground.  Wagner,  as  we  shall  find,  has  in  this 
work,  as  in  his  others,  taken  hints  from  all  the 
sources,  and  has  introduced  special  and  highly  signifi- 
cant ideas  of  his  own. 

Wolfram's  history  I  must  recount  but  briefly,  for 
little  is  known  of  his  life.  We  learn  from  his  name 
that  he  was  probably  born  (about  1170)  at  Eschen- 
bach  in  Bavaria,  and  it  is  certain  that  he  was  buried 
there;  for  toward  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century 
his  tomb,  with  an  inscription,  could  be  seen  in  the 
Frauen-Kirche  of  Ober-Eschenbach.  He  tells  us  that 
he  was  of  the  knightly  order  and  with  some  humour 
refers  often  to  his  poverty.  It  does  not  appear,  how- 
ever, that  he  was  obliged  to  roam  about,  reciting  his 
verse  for  a  living.  He  was  extremely  proud  of  his 
knighthood,  and  his  entire  poem  breathes  the  spirit  of 
chivalry.  It  was  probably  written — or  dictated,  for 
Wolfram  was  ignorant  of  writing — in  the  early  years 
of  the  thirteenth   century,   and  it  was   published  in 

1477- 

According  to  Wolfram,  the  source  of  his  work  was  a 
story  of  the  Holy  Grail  by  one  Kiot  of  Provence.     No 


Parsifal  449 

such  poem  is  now  known.  According  to  Wolfram, 
Kiot  found  at  Toledo  an  ancient  black-letter  manu- 
script in  Arabic,  and  learned  from  it  that  Flagetanis,  a 
heathen,  born  before  Christ  and  celebrated  for  his 
acquaintance  with  occult  arts,  had  read  in  the  stars  that 
there  would  at  some  time  appear  a  thing  called  the 
Grail,  and  that  whosoever  should  be  its  servitor 
would  be  blest  among  men.  Kiot  set  out  to  ascertain 
whether  anyone  had  ever  been  worthy  of  this  service, 
and,  as  the  house  of  Anjou  was  then  in  power,  he 
had  no  difficulty  in  discovering  that  one  Titurel,  a 
very  ancient  king  of  this  dynasty,  had  once  been  the 
keeper  of  the  Grail.  Of  course  this  story  was  in- 
vented by  Kiot  to  do  honour  to  his  sovereign  liege. 
Wolfram  declares  that  Kiot  related  the  tale  incorrectly, 
and  at  any  rate  his  version,  so  far  as  reported  by 
Wolfram,  contains  nothing  about  Parsifal.  And  this 
brings  us  to  an  important  point. 

Howfarback  the  legends  of  the  Grail  go,is  unknown. 
No  matter  how  far  we  trace  them,  we  always  find 
references  to  a  source.  But  it  seems  almost  certain 
that  in  their  earliest  forms  they  had  no  relation  to  the 
tale  of  Perceval,  or  Peredur,  the  Parsifal  of  later  ver- 
sions. The  story  as  it  is  now  known  to  us  is  a  union 
of  two  originally  separate  legends.  There  is  good 
ground,  according  to  all  the  folk-lorists,  for  believing 
that  in  its  original  form  the  Celtic,  or,  more  exactly, 
Kymric,  legend  of  Peredur  was  independent  of  the 
Grail  stories.  The  latter  appeared  between  1 170  and 
1220,  and  constituted  a  large  body  of  literature,  deal- 
ing with  a  talisman  not  at  first  distinctly  Christian. 
For  half  a  century  poets  sang  this  legend  enthusiasti- 
cally and  then  suddenly  dropped  it.     A  few  scattered 


450  Richard  Wagner 

and  worthless  Grail  romances  date  from  a  later  period, 
and,  with  Mallory's  "  Morte  d'Arthur,"  written  300 
years  later, — a  noble  fragment,  indeed, — they  came  to 
an  end.  Mr.  David  Nutt,  in  his  "Studies  on  the 
Legends  of  the  Holy  Grail,"  holds,  with  apparently 
excellent  reason,  that  the  Grail  was  originally  a  Pagan 
talisman,  and  that  a  history  of  the  legend  is  the  history 
of  the  development  of  this  talisman  into  a  Christian 
symbol.  He  further  shows  that  the  legends  may  be 
divided  into  two  classes,  one  dealing  entirely  with  the 
talisman  itself,  and  being  largely  influenced  by 
Christian  ideas,  and  the  other  treating  of  the  quest  of 
the  Grail.  Somewhere  or  other  in  the  stories  of  the 
adventures  of  Peredur  was  found  a  resemblance  to 
some  legend  of  the  search  after  the  Grail,  and  thus 
the  Kymric  folk-hero  became  the  protagonist  of  the 
Grail-drama. 

The  Arthurian  legends  are  British;  the  Grail  stories 
are  French.  Let  us  see  how  they  came  together. 
Undoubtedly  the  former  went  first  from  France  to 
England,  and  the  latter  followed  them.  To  under- 
stand this  we  must  bear  in  mind  that  France  was 
ancient  Gaul,  and  that  a  large  part  of  the  ancient  popu- 
lation was  Celtic.  The  Celts  fairly  filled  all  that  part 
of  France  extending  from  the  Garonne  River  to  the 
Seine  and  the  Marne.  In  this  land  dwelt  the  Celtae 
proper,  but  their  speech  and  their  influence  spread 
beyond  its  confines.  For  these  Celts  in  France  were 
but  a  surviving  and  compressed  fragment  of  the 
great  vanguard  of  the  Aryan  race,  which,  issuing  from 
its  forest  cradle  in  Asia  Minor,  and  carrying  in  its 
bosom  the  nursling  star  of  empire,  swept  westward 
toward  the  Atlantic.     It  peopled  most  of  Europe  and 


Parsifal  45 1 

the  isles  of  the  sea,  and  it  planted  among  the  sunny 
fields  of  the  Midi  and  the  verdant  vales  of  Britain  the 
seeds  of  the  Arthurian  legends,  the  Nibelung  tales, 
the  Norse  Sagas,  all  garnered  first  from  some  great 
parent  stem  of  folk-lore  in  the  Eastern  jungles.  How 
it  chanced  that  the  Arthurian  tales  blossomed  into  full 
fancy  in  England  first  no  one  knows,  but  it  is  equally 
inexplicable  how  the  Grail  legends  were  first  de- 
veloped in  France.  For  the  Grail  was  originally  a 
vessel  in  which  was  offered  a  draught  of  wisdom 
or  youth,  and  its  transformation  into  a  sacred  cup 
dates  from  a  period  considerably  later  than  the  time  of 
Christ. 

In  Gaelic  chants  descended  from  remote  times  we 
read  of  a  vase  or  basin  which  conferred  upon  its  pos- 
sessor superhuman  power.  This  basin  was  always 
placed  by  the  legends  in  the  hands  of  some  famous 
warrior  by  a  giant  or  a  dwarf,  or  both,  emerging  from 
the  waters.  The  possession  of  the  vase  caused  him 
to  be  envied,  and  so  arose  many  fierce  combats.  Not 
unlike  the  hoard  of  the  Nibelungs  was  this  famous 
basin.  It  is  not  difficult  to  see  how,  as  Christianity 
spread,  the  wondrous  powers  of  the  vessel  were 
attributed  to  its  connection  with  the  Saviour.  Wolf- 
ram von  Eschenbach  does  not  agree  with  older  writers 
as  to  the  origin  of  the  Grail.  He  accepted  the  version 
of  the  mediaeval  poem  called  the  "  Wartburgkrieg." 

According  to  this,  sixty  thousand  angels,  who  wished 
to  drive  God  out  of  Heaven,  made  a  crown  for  Lucifer. 
When  the  archangel  Michael  struck  it  from  his  head 
a  stone  fell  to  the  earth,  and  this  became  the  Grail. 
In  the  latest  mediaeval  French  version  the  Grail  was 
the  cup  in  which  was  received  the  sacred  blood  from 


\^ 


452  Richard  Wagner 

the  wounds  of  the  dying  Saviour.  Indeed,  the  ety- 
mology of  the  word  itself  has  been  a  subject  of  inquiry 
and  dispute.  In  the  Middle  Ages  it  was  thought  that 
the  name  "san-gral"  was  a  corruption  of  the  words 
"sang  real,"  "blood  royal,"  referring  to  the  office 
of  the  cup.  Dr.  Gustave  Oppert  has  written  a  long 
and  ingenious  argument  to  prove  that  "coral"  was 
derived  from  "cqr-alere,"  and  this  theory  consists 
well  with  Wolfram's  story  of  the  origin  of  the  Grail 
as  a  precious  stone.  The  word,  however,  is  most 
rationally  derived  from  the  Provencal  word  "grial," 
a  vessel.  This  derivation  accords  best  with  the  finest 
of  the  early  versions  of  the  story,  that  written  by  the 
remarkable  French  poet,  Chretien  de  Troyes;  and  the 
word  "grial"  in  its  several  forms  is  still  used  in  Pro- 
vence to  signify  a  vessel. 

Efforts  have  been  made  by  tracing  the  derivation  of 
"  Perceval  "  to  show  that  he  was  connected  with  the 
earliest  forms  of  the  Grail  legends.  One  writer  derives 
the  name  from  "perchen,"  a  root  signifying  posses- 
sion, and  "  mail,"  a  cup.  The  latter  word  by  inflection 
becomes  "vail,"  and  we  get  as  a  result  "  Perchen- 
vail  "  or  "  Perchenval," — whence  Perceval, — a  cup- 
holder  or  Grail-keeper.  This  derivation  is  of  little 
value  in  face  of  the  undeniable  fact  that  in  the  Mabi- 
nogi  version  of  the  Peredur  story  he  is  not  the  holder 
of  the  Grail.  Indeed,  the  Grail  itself  appears  here  only 
in  one  of  its  early  forms,  that  of  a  charger  on  which 
lay  a  bleeding  head.  This  head  was  afterward  decided 
to  be  that  of  John  the  Baptist.  Peredur  becomes  a 
searcher  after  this,  and  that  is  the  foundation  of  his 
connection  with  later  forms  of  the  legend. 

We  may  now  review  briefly  the  manner  in  which 


Parsifal  453 

the  Grail  entered  the  Arthurian  romances,  and  then 
take  a  glance  at  the  principal  versions  which  were  of 
value  to  Wagner.  In  1 1 54,  died  Geoffrey  of  Mon- 
mouth, a  learned  Welsh  monk,  who  is  celebrated  for 
his  work  entitled  "The  History  of  the  Britons."  In 
this  we  find  set  forth  in  full  for  the  first  time  the 
account  of  King  Arthur  and  the  Knights  of  the  Round 
Table.  Fact  and  fiction  were,  of  course,  curiously 
mingled  in  this  work,  and  historical  personages  were 
accredited  with  some  of  the  deeds  narrated  in  the 
ancient  legends.  But  here,  at  any  rate,  we  find  the 
Arthurian  cycle  in  its  earliest  recorded  form.  The  old 
Welsh  collection  of  romances  known  as  the  Mabinogi, 
which  is  sometimes  said  to  be  the  oldest  version  of 
these  tales,  shows  too  many  evidences  of  influence 
from  the  Grail  stories.  It  must  be  of  a  later  date  than 
the  work  of  Geoffrey,  and  certainly  much  later  than 
the  fundamental  utterance  of  the  Perceval  legend. 

In  the  year  in  which  Geoffrey  died,  Henry  II.  of 
Anjou  ascended  the  throne,  uniting  under  his  sceptre 
the  sovereignty  of  England,  Normandy,  Anjou,  and  a 
great  part  of  Southern  France.  In  this  reign  flourished 
Walter  Map,  or  Mapes,  the  great  son  of  Hertfordshire, 
who,  under  Richard  1.,  in  1197,  became  Archdeacon 
of  Oxford.  His  chief  work  seems  to  have  been  the 
introduction  of  the  Holy  Grail  into  the  legendary 
romances.  He  systematised  the  Arthurian  tales  by 
spiritualising  them  and  making  them  essentially  Christ- 
ian, This  he  accomplished  largely  by  the  employ- 
ment of  the  Grail,  an  element  which  he  undoubtedly 
obtained  from  French  sources  through  the  unification  of 
the  kingdoms  under  Henry.  Map  created  Sir  Galahad, 
the  stainless  knight,  and  it  is  regarded  as  probable 


454  Richard  Wagner 

that  he  wrote  the  Latin  original  of  the  "  Romance 
of  the  Saint  Grail."  It  is  accepted  as  certain  that  he 
wrote  the  original  of  "Lancelot  of  the  Lake,"  "The 
Quest  of  the  Grail,"  and  the  "Mort  Artus." 

German  scholars  accept  as  the  next  version  of  the 
story  the  Provencal  poem,  written  by  Robert  Borron, 
a  trouvere,  born  near  Meaux.  Borron's  labours  con- 
sisted m  introducing  into  the  Breton  Epic,  as  it  is 
called,  — namely,  the  French  version  of  the  Arthurian 
tales, — the  active  workings  of  the  Holy  Grail.  His 
labour  seems  to  have  been  precisely  the  same  as  that  of 
Geoffrey,  and  he  has  even  been  credited  with  liberally 
helping  himself  to  the  Latin  works  of  the  British 
writer.  In  his  "Joseph  of  Arimathea  '  he  makes  the 
Grail  the  vessel  in  which  Joseph  received  the  blood  of 
Christ  on  the  cross.  This  vessel  was  none  other  than 
the  cup  used  at  the  Last  Supper,  and  had  been  given 
to  Joseph  by  our  Lord  himself.  French  savants  have 
pretty  thoroughly  proved  that  Borron's  work  was  not 
written  about  1170  or  1180,  as  the  Germans  believe, 
but  something  like  forty-five  years  later.  It  gives,  in 
fact,  one  of  the  latest  French  versions  of  the  Grail 
legend  and  is  valuable  for  that  reason.  Gaston  Paris, 
a  high  authority  on  French  mediaeval  literature,  has 
taken  the  ground  that  this  version  belongs  to  the  thir- 
teenth century,  and  his  views  have  been  supported 
by  other  French  investigators.  The  French  version 
which  lies  nearest  to  the  works  of  Geoffrey  is  that  of 
Chretien  de  Troyes,  who  died  about  1195. 

Little  is  known  of  the  life  of  Chretien,  except  that 
he  was  a  native  of  Champagne  and  spent  most  of  his 
time  in  Courts.  About  1160  he  wrote  his  lost 
"Tristan,"  which  he  followed  with  "Erec,"  a  Bre- 


Parsifal  455 

ton  legend.  Then  he  wrote  his  "Cliges,"  on  an 
Oriental  legend  dealing  with  the  abduction  of  a  wife 
of  Solomon  (with  her  own  assistance).  About  11 70 
he  wrote  his  "Lancelot  of  the  Lake,"  and  soon  after- 
ward "Ivain;  or,  The  Chevalier  of  the  Lion."  About 
1 175  he  wrote  "Perceval  the  Gaul;  or,  The  Story  of  the 
Grail."  This  he  tells  us  he  adapted  from  a  book  lent 
to  him  by  Philip  of  Alsace,  who,  in  1172,  fought  in 
England  against  Henry  II.  It  seems  altogether  prob- 
able that  this  book  was  either  Geoffrey's,  or  one  util- 
ising its  materials. 

According  to  Chretien,  Perceval  is  the  son  of  a 
widow,  Kamuelles,  whose  husband  has  been  slain  in 
a  tournament  and  who  therefore  is  desirous  that  her 
son  shall  never  hear  of  the  allurements  of  knighthood. 
She  retires  with  him  to  a  forest  and  seeks  to  bring 
him  up  in  ignorance  of  all  the  customs  of  chivalry. 
But  one  day  in  the  depths  of  the  wood  Perceval  sees 
five  knights,  and  from  them  learns  what  knighthood 
and  the  Round  Table  are.  He  returns  to  his  mother 
and  tells  her  what  he  has  learned.  Now  he  will  not 
rest  till  he  may  be  a  knight.  The  poor  mother,  know- 
ing that  it  is  useless  to  oppose  him,  tells  him  how  to 
be  knightly  and  sends  him  forth  on  his  travels.  Utterly 
ignorant,  almost  foolishly  simple  in  mind,  the  youth 
makes  many  errors,  and  at  the  Court  of  Arthur  is  ridi- 
culed by  the  knights.  But  he  engages  in  combat  with 
one  and  slays  him  with  a  single  blow.  Equipped 
with  this  knight's  arms,  he  sets  out  again. 

He  falls  in  with  an  aged  and  wise  man,  named 
Gonemans  de  Gelbert,  who  for  nearly  a  year  instructs 
him  in  the  use  of  arms  and  in  other  matters.  Then 
Perceval,  whose  foolish  mind  is  gradually  becoming 


45 6  Richard  Wagner 

enlightened,  begins  to  feel  the  emotion  of  pity  for  his 
mother,  and  he  goes  forth  once  more,  hoping  that  he 
may  see  her  again.  His  wanderings  and  adventures 
are  numerous  and  not  especially  significant.  He  fights 
with  the  King  of  Deadly  Castle.  He  meets  and  con- 
soles Gonemans's  niece,  the  beautiful  Blanchefleur,  who 
tells  him  of  her  many  sorrows  and  bids  him  rescue 
the  knights  and  ladies  imprisoned  in  Gringaron.  He 
does  her  bidding.  He  is  constantly  riding  on  knightly 
errands,  and  his  nature  is  expanding  and  his  wisdom 
deepening. 

At  length  he  comes  to  the  Court  of  a  king  who  is 
suffering  from  an  incurable  wound.  While  seated  at 
the  bedside  of  this  king,  he  sees  for  the  first  time  the 
Grail  and  a  bleeding  spear,  but  gazes  upon  them  in 
silent  wonder,  not  asking  their  meaning.  The  next 
morning  he  is  ready  to  ask,  but  to  his  amazement  he 
finds  the  castle  deserted.  He  departs,  but  as  he 
crosses  the  drawbridge  it  is  raised,  and  his  horse  has 
to  leap.  He  turns  and  asks  who  raised  the  bridge, 
what  the  Grail  is,  and  why  the  spear  bleeds,  but  no 
one  answers.  After  he  has  travelled  some  distance  he 
meets  a  maiden,  his  cousin,  who  tells  him  of  the  death 
of  his  mother,  and  of  his  error  in  not  asking  about  the 
things  he  had  seen.  Now  Perceval  falls  in  love,  with 
whom  we  are  not  told,  and  his  nature  becomes  tender 
and  affectionate. 

He  returns  to  Arthur's  Court,  where  he  is  visited  by 
a  strange  wild  woman.  She  tells  him  that  if  he  had 
asked  the  needed  question  about  the  Grail,  the  sick 
king  would  have  been  healed.  She  also  tells  him  of 
knights  and  ladies  imprisoned  in  Castle  Orguellous. 
Perceval  and  other  knights  swear  to  release  them,  and 


Parsifal  457 

Perceval  vows  that  he  will  never  rest  till  he  knows 
what  the  Grail  is,  and  finds  the  bleeding  lance.  He 
goes  to  seek  a  certain  wise  hermit,  who  gives  him 
much  advice  about  seeking  for  the  Grail  and  the 
spear.  A  little  further  on  the  story  comes  to  an  end 
unfinished.  The  tale  of  Perceval's  finding  of  the  Grail 
was  told  by  others,  or  it  may  be  that  Chretien  com- 
pleted his  work  and  the  latter  part  was  lost.  Chre- 
tien's successors,  however,  provided  the  conclusion  of 
the  story,  no  doubt  adding  many  unessential  details, 
but  preserving  the  vital  point  of  the  original. 

For  example,  according  to  Borron,  Bron,  the  brother- 
in-law  of  Joseph,  received  the  Grail  into  his  care  and 
became  the  head  of  the  line  of  Grail-warders.  Bron 
remained  on  the  Continent,  but  his  son  Alan  settled  in 
Britain,  and  was  the  father  of  Perceval.  This  youth 
was  to  see  the  Grail,  but  only  after  many  trials.  He 
made  two  journeys.  On  the  first  he  saw  the  sacred 
relics,  but  asked  no  question.  The  second  time  he 
did  ask,  and  learned  the  mysteries  of  the  Grail,  of 
which  he  became  the  keeper.  Other  writers,  who 
followed  Chretien,  narrated  how  Perceval  found  the 
castle  of  the  sick  king  again,  and  asked  the  vital  quest- 
ion, thus  restoring  the  sufferer.  Out  of  these  mate- 
rials Wolfram  von  Eschenbach  made  his  version  of  the 
story,  the  completest  and  most  beautiful  that  has  come 
down  to  us,  and  the  direct  basis  of  Wagner's  work. 

Wolfram's  first  two  books  are  introductory  to  the 
story  of  his  hero.*  In  the  first,  however,  it  may  be 
noted  that  he  devotes  some  space  to  the  praise  of  true 
womanhood  as  contrasted  with  merely  external  beauty. 

*  See  "  Parzifal,"  translated  by  Jessie  L.  Weston,  London,  David 
Nutt,  1894;  Book  v..  "  Anfortas." 


458  Richard  Wagner 

This  reminds  us  of  the  position  taken  by  Wagner's 
V\'olfram  in  "Tannhiiuser."  The  main  portion  of  the 
first  two  books  is  taken  up  with  the  adventures  of 
Parsifal's  father,  here  called  Gamuret.  This  knight  is 
not  slain  in  a  tournament,  but  is  killed  through  treach- 
ery while  serving  in  the  army  of  the  Caliph  of  Bagdad. 
The  widow,  Herzeleide,  tries  to  bring  up  the  son, 
Parsifal,  in  ignorance  of  everything  pertaining  to  chiv- 
alry, but  one  day  he  sees  three  knights  and  is  en- 
tranced. The  story  now  follows  closely  that  of 
Chretien,  and  is  filled  with  interesting  details  well 
worth  reading,  indeed,  but  not  germane  to  the  subject- 
matter  of  Wagner's  drama.  It  is  well  to  bear  in  mind, 
however,  that  in  this  version,  as  in  Chretien's,  Parzifal 
is  so  simple-minded  and  so  ignorant  as  to  be  fitly  de- 
scribed as  a  "  guileless  f ool. "  His  mother  in  Wolfram's 
tale  dresses  him  in  fool's  clothes,  and  in  these  he  ap- 
pears at  Arthur's  Court  and  asks  to  be  made  a  knight. 
His  immediately  subsequent  adventures  are  the  same 
in  all  the  legends.  He  slays  a  knight,  obtains  his 
armour  and  equipments,  and  reaches  the  castle  of  an 
old  knight  named  Gurnemanz,  the  Gonemans  of  Chre- 
tien. From  him  he  receives  much  instruction,  being 
particularly  warned  against  asking  too  many  quest- 
ions. 

Setting  out  again,  Parzifal  arrives  at  a  city  which  is 
besieged.  He  aids  the  besieged  people,  and  when 
they  have  won  their  victory,  he  marries  their  Queen, 
the  beautiful  Conduiramour.  After  a  time  he  leaves 
her  to  seek  his  mother,  of  whose  death  he  is  ignorant, 
and  to  find  new  adventures.  He  comes  to  the  bank 
of  a  lake  where  some  men  are  fishing,  and  asks  for 
shelter  for  the  night.     He  is  taken  to  a  magnificent 


Parsifal  459 

castle,  and  shown  into  a  great  hall  where  there  are 
four  hundred  knights.  The  master  of  the  castle  in- 
vites Parzifal  to  recline  beside  him  on  a  couch.  A 
squire  enters,  bearing  a  bleeding  lance,  whereupon 
all  burst  into  loud  wailings.  Then  a  steel  door  opens 
and  there  enters  a  procession  of  twenty-four  beautiful 
women,  splendidly  attired,  bearing  various  articles 
seemingly  of  import  and  value.  Finally  appears  "  our 
lady  and  queen,"  Repanse  de  Schoie,  bearer  of  the 
Holy  Grail,  for  which  exalted  office  we  learn  she  has 
been  designated  by  the  Grail  itself  The  Grail  is  placed 
on  a  table  before  Parzifal  and  the  master  of  the  castle, 
Anfortas,  whose  face  shows  that  he  suffers  intense 
pain,  both  bodily  and  spiritual.  There  is  a  feast,  for 
which  the  food  is  provided  by  the  power  of  the  Grail. 
Anfortas  presents  to  Parzifal  a  magnificent  sword,  his 
ovv'n.  Through  all  the  guileless  fool,  remembering 
that  Gurnemanz  had  told  him  not  to  be  too  "  swift  to 
question,"  asks  nothing,  but  thinks  that  if  he  stays 
there  long  enough  he  will  learn  without  asking. 
Whereupon  Wolfram  moralises*. 

"  But  he  who  his  story  aimeth  at  the  ear  of  a  fool  shall  find 
His  shaft  go  astray,  for  no  dwelling  it  findeth  within  his  mind," 

Parzifal  retires  to  his  sleeping  apartment,  but  in  the 
morning  he  finds  no  attendants,  and  the  castle  is  ap- 
parently empty.  He  mounts  his  horse  and  departs, 
but  as  he  goes  a  squire  scolds  him  for  not  asking  a 
question,  on  which  depended  the  recovery  of  the 
afflicted  Anfortas  and  his  own  happiness.  Still  con- 
fused in  mind,  Parzifal  rides  away.  Again  his  ad- 
ventures have  no  relation  to  the  Wagnerian  drama, 
though  they  are  extremely  interesting.     Some  of  the 


460  Richard  Wagner 

incidents  in  this  part  of  the  story  rise  to  high  beauty. 
One  of  these  is  the  effect  of  a  bird's  blood  on  the 
snow,  which  so  forcibly  reminds  Parzifal  of  the  red 
lips  and  fair  brow  of  his  wife  that  he  is  overcome. 
Finally,  however,  he  returns  to  the  Court  of  Arthur, 
and  while  a  feast  is  in  progress  there  appears  a  woman 
of  dreadful  appearance,  called  Kondrie  the  Sorceress. 
She  fiercely  denounces  Parzifal  for  not  asking  the  es- 
sential question  at  Monsalvasch,  the  castle  of  the  Grail. 
Parzifal  renounces  the  Round  Table,  believes  himself 
unworthy,  despairs  of  mercy  in  the  hereafter,  and 
declares  that  his  wife's  love  is  henceforth  his  only 
shield, 

Parzifal  is  now  for  some  time  relegated  to  the  back- 
ground of  the  story,  which  occupies  itself  with  the 
adventures  of  Gawain,  another  of  the  Knights  of  the 
Round  Table.  Finally,  we  learn  how  Parzifal  meets 
with  an  aged  knight  and  his  wife,  walking  barefoot 
through  deep  snow,  on  a  pilgrimage  to  the  dwelling 
of  an  holy  hermit.  They  reproach  Parzifal  for  not  re- 
membering the  season.  The  words  of  Wolfram's 
poem  here  are  nearly  the  same  as  those  of  Chretien, 
which  are  these: 

"  Knowest  thou  not  the  day,  sweet  youth? 
'T  is  holy  Friday,  in  good  sooth, 
When  all  bewail  their  guilt." 

Parzifal  arrives  at  the  cell  of  the  hermit,  whose 
name  is  Trevrezent.  The  hermit  tells  Parzifal  the 
story  of  the  Grail  and  the  bleeding  spear.  Anfortas 
had  yielded  to  the  temptation  of  lust,  and  as  a  punish- 
ment he  had  received  in  combat  a  wound  from  a 
poisoned  lance,  and  this  wound  would  not  heal,  while 
the  sight  of  the  Holy  Grail  kept  him  from  dying.     A 


Parsifal  461 

prophecy  finally  appeared  on  the  Grail  itself,  announc- 
ing that  if  a  knight  came  and  asked  of  his  own  accord 
the  cause  of  the  King's  sufferings,  they  should  end, 
and  the  inquiring  knight  should  become  the  Grail 
king.  Parzifal  confesses  that  he  once  went  to  the 
castle,  but  did  not  ask  the  question.  Trevrezent  now 
gives  him  further  instruction,  absolves  him  of  his 
sins,  and  sends  him  on  his  way. 

We  now  read  of  many  struggles  between  the 
Knights  of  the  Round  Table,  as  representatives  of 
Christianity,  and  the  agents  of  the  evil  one.  Gawain 
frees  the  maidens  imprisoned  by  the  magician  Kling- 
sor  in  Chateau  Merveil.  But  Gawain  goes  no  further 
than  this.  Parzifal,  being  the  more  pious  of  the  two, 
is  permitted  after  many  adventures,  including  a  fight 
with  Gawain,  whom  he  does  not  recognise,  to  ride  to 
Monsalvasch,  ask  the  cause  of  the  King's  suffering, 
free  him  from  his  agony,  and  receive  the  crown.  Now 
his  wife  arrives  with  his  two  sons,  one  of  whom  is 
Lohengrin,  and  destined  to  succeed  his  father  as  the 
keeper  of  the  Grail.  The  story  of  Lohengrin  and  Elsa 
is  told,  and  there  are  other  details,  which,  fascinating 
in  themselves,  have  no  bearing  on  the  materials  used 
by  Wagner. 

IL — The  Drama  of  Wagner 

Let  us  now  briefly  review  the  story  of  the  drama. 
According  to  Wagner,  the  castle  of  Monsalvat,  as  he 
calls  it,  stands  upon  a  mountain  just  above  the  valley 
in  which  is  situated  the  castle  of  the  magician, 
Klingsor.  Monsalvat  is  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Grail 
and  the  dwelling  of  its  knights.  Klingsor's  castle  is 
the  abode  of  temptation.      The  magician  represents 


462  Richard  Wagner 

the  powers  of  evil.  He  rages  against  the  servants  of 
the  Grail,  because  he  for  his  sinfulness  has  been  re- 
fused admission  to  their  number.  Therefore  he 
spends  his  life  in  trying  to  corrupt  them  and  for  this 
purpose  he  has  a  garden  of  wonders,  the  chief  of 
which  is  a  company  of  fascinating  women.  Amfortas, 
the  keeper  of  the  Grail,  once  succumbed  to  the  allure- 
ments of  one  of  these,  whereby  he  lost  the  sacred  lance 
and  was  wounded  by  it.  This  lance  is  that  which  was 
thrust  into  the  side  of  the  Saviour  on  the  cross  and  was 
placed  in  the  keeping  of  the  knights  of  the  Grail.  The 
touch  of  the  spear  which  gave  the  wound  alone  can 
heal  it.     But  the  spear  is  in  the  hands  of  Klingsor. 

All  this  we  learn  from  the  conversation  of  Gurne- 
manz  and  several  esquires  in  the  first  scene.  Kundry, 
the  strangest  and  most  potent  character  of  the  drama, 
sometimes  the  repentant  servant  of  the  Grail,  at  others 
the  unwilling  and  agonised  slave  of  Klingsor,  appears 
with  balsam  for  the  King,  but  it  can  give  him  only 
temporary  relief.  Gurnemanz  tells  us  that  the  King 
will  be  healed  through  the  instrumentality  of  a  sinless 
fool,  enlightened  by  pity.  This  person  presently  ap- 
pears in  the  character  of  Parsifal.  He  shoots  a  wild 
swan  and  when  he  rejoices  in  the  accuracy  of  his  aim 
Gurnemanz  reproaches  him.  The  aged  knight  asks 
him  whence  he  came,  who  is  his  father,  who  is  his 
mother,  and  what  is  his  name,  but  to  all  of  these 
questions  he  can  only  reply,  "I  do  not  know." 
Gurnemanz,  astonished  at  his  ignorance,  questions 
him  further,  and  finds  that  he  remembers  his  mother 
and  her  goodness.  He  tells  how  he  saw  the  knights 
in  armour,  and  followed  in  the  hope  of  becoming  like 
them.     Kundry,  who  is  an  interested  listener  to  the 


Parsifal  463 

conversation,  contributes  some  items  of  information, 
and  finally  informs  Parsifal  that  his  mother  is  dead. 
He  flies  into  a  rage,  and  attacks  Kundry,  but  is  with- 
held by  Gurnemanz.  And  now  Kundry  is  suddenly 
overwhelmed  by  a  mysterious  sleep.  This  is  the  re- 
sult of  a  spell  which  has  been  cast  upon  her  by  the 
magician  Klingsor.  When  she  is  herself,  she  struggles 
always  for  good;  but  when  Klingsor's  power  is  oper- 
ating, she  becomes  the  most  seductive  of  his  agents. 
This  is  one  of  Wagner's  most  striking  ideas.  It  is  his 
own,  for  although  in  a  way  Kundry  is  a  composite  of 
characters  found  in  the  old  epics,  she  is,  in  Wagner's 
drama,  a  new  creation.  But  of  that  I  shall  speak 
further. 

Gurnemanz  surmises  that  Parsifal  may  be  the  pure 
fool  destined  to  save  Amfortas,  and  therefore  escorts 
him  to  the  castle  of  Monsalvat.  There  he  sees  the 
ceremony  of  the  unveiling  of  the  Grail.  Amfortas, 
dreading  the  ordeal,  prays  most  pitifully  for  release 
from  his  sufferings,  but  the  voice  of  his  father  Titurel, 
too  weak  to  sustain  the  duties  of  Grail-warder  and 
living  a  kind  of  life  in  death,  bids  him  face  his  duty. 
Amfortas  unveils  the  Grail,  and  the  ceremony  of  the 
Lord's  Supper  is  performed.  Gurnemanz  invites 
Parsifal  to  partake  of  it,  but  he  stands  dumbfounded 
and  silent.  The  Grail  is  borne  away  again,  and 
when  the  knights  have  disappeared,  Gurnemanz 
pushes  the  still  stupefied  Parsifal  out  of  the  hall, 
saying: 

"  Letting  in  future  the  swans  alone, 
Go  seek  thee,  thou  gander,  a  goose." 

The  rising  of  the  curtain  on  the  second  act  reveals 
to  us  the  chamber  of  Klingsor   in  a  tower  of  his  castle. 


4^4  Richard  Wagner 

He  is  there  awaiting  the  arrival  of  Parsifal,  who  he 
knows  has  been  cast  out  of  Monsalvat  and  is  ap- 
proaching his  domain.  He  summons  Kundry,  calling 
her  she-devil,  rose  of  hell,  and  Herodias,  the  daughter 
of  Herod.  She  arises  in  a  cloud  of  vapour,  ap- 
parently in  the  sleep  into  which  we  saw  her  sink 
in  the  first  act.  Klingsor  orders  her  to  tempt  the  pure 
fool,  whose  very  foolishness  makes  him  dangerous  to 
the  powers  of  evil.  Kundry  struggles  in  vain.  Her 
will  is  mastered  by  Klingsor,  for  she  is  not  pure. 
The  scene  changes  to  the  magic  garden.  Parsifal  is 
standing  upon  the  wall  lost  in  amazement.  Beautiful 
maidens,  half  clad,  ^  changing  presently  to  some- 
thing almost  like  flowers,  allure  him  with  blandish- 
ments of  the  most  seductive  kind.'  These  are  the 
servants  of  Klingsor  and  they  do  his  bidding.  But 
the  pure  fool  does  not  understand  them.  Presently 
from  a  thicket  comes  the  voice  of  Kundry,  calling, 
"  Parsifal." 

It  is  the  first  time  the  name  has  been  uttered,  and 
he  remembers  it  as  in  a  dream.  He  now  sees  Kundry, 
who  has  changed  from  the  wild,  dishevelled,  weep- 
ing creature  of  the  first  scene  to  a  young  woman  of 
surpassing  beauty.  She  tells  Parsifal  the  story  of  his 
origin,  of  his  mother's  woes  and  death,  and,  when  his 
heart  is  touched,  bids  him  learn  the  mystery  of  love. 
She  presses  her  lips  upon  his  in  a  long  kiss.  The  re- 
sult is  startling ;  Parsifal  springs  up  in  terror  and  appears 
to  suffer  suddenly  intense  pain.  Then  he  cries; 
//Amfortas!  The  wound,  the  wound!"  He  has  re- 
ceived the  needed  enlightenment,  through  the(pity  for 
his  mother.  His  own  breast  is  now  torn  with  the 
anguish  of  Amfortas,   and  with  the  terrible  self-ac- 


Parsifal  465 

cusation  of  his  own  failure  to  save  the  sufferer.  He 
realises  that  the  seductions  aimed  at  him  are  those  to 
which  Amf  ortas  succumbed,  and  he  bids  the  accursed 
sorceress  begone,  in  her  rage  she  discloses  to  Par- 
sifal that  it  was  Klingsor  who  wounded  Amfortas 
'^with  the  sacred  spear.  The  magician  comes  to  aid 
Kundry  in  her  struggle  with  Parsifal.  The  flower 
maidens  also  return.  Klingsor,  enraged,  hurls  the 
spear  at  Parsifal  to  slay  him,  but  the  sacred  weapon 
remains  suspended  above  his  head.  He  grasps  it, 
and,  making  with  it  the  sign  of  the  cross,  bids  the 
castle  disappear.  At  once  the  whole  is  wrecked, 
and,  as  the  curtain  falls,  Parsifal,  standing  on  the  ruined 
wall,  tells  Kundry  that  she  knows  where  she  may  find 
him  again. 

The  third  act  shows  us  Gurnemanz,  now  very  old, 
living  as  a  hermit  in  a  little  hut  at  the  edge  of  a  forest. 
It  is  Good  Friday,  and  the  loveliness  of  spring  is  in  the 
land.  To  Gurnemanz  comes  Kundry,  clothed  in  the 
garb  of  a  penitent,  and  without  her  early  wildness  of 
mien.  She  begs  leave  to  serve,  and  goes  about  it  at 
once.  Parsifal,  clad  in  black  armour  with  closed  hel- 
met visor,  and  bearing  the  holy  spear,  approaches.  He 
plants  the  spear  in  the  earth,  takes  off  his  helmet, 
kneels,  and  prays  before  the  lance.  -Gurnemanz, 
amazed,  recognises  him.  Parsifal  expresses  his  grati- 
tude at  finding  the  aged  man  once  more,  and  we  learn 
from  his  speech  that  he  has  passed  through  many  ex- 
periences since  he  left  the  garden  of  Klingsor.  Now 
he  has  only  one  thought,  to  return  to  the  castle  of  the 
Grail  and  release  Amfortas  from  his  sufferings.  Gur- 
nemanz tells  him  that  Titurel  has  died  and  Amfortas 
has  refused  longer  to  perform  his  office  as  Grail- warder. 


466  Richard  Wagner 

No  more  is  the  sacred  vessel  revealed,  for  thus  Am- 
fortas  hopes  to  win  release  by  death.  Parsifal  is  deeply 
moved  by  the  consciousness  that  he  might  have  pre- 
vented all  this.  He  almost  faints,  and  Kundry  eagerly 
brings  water  to  revive  him.  She  bathes  his  feet,  and 
at  his  request  Gurnemanz  baptises  him.  Kundry  pro- 
duces a  phial  of  ointment  and  anoints  his  feet.  Again 
at  his  request,  Gurnemanz  anoints  his  head.  Then 
Parsifal,  with  water  from  the  spring,  baptises  Kundry, 
bidding  her  trust  in  the  Redeemer.  Kundry  weeps. 
Parsifal  is  clad  in  the  mantle  of  a  knight  of  the  Grail, 
and  with  Gurnemanz  and  Kundry  he  goes  to  the  great 
hall  at  Monsalvat.  The  body  of  Titurel  is  borne  in, 
followed  by  Amfortas  on  his  litter.  The  knights  con- 
jure him  once  more  to  reveal  the  Grail,  but  he,  in 
desperate  agony,  discloses  his  terrible,  unhealing 
wound,  and  beseeches  the  knights  to  bury  their 
swords  in  it. 

At  this  moment  Parsifal,  accompanied  by  Gurne- 
manz and  Kundry,  advances.  Parsifal  says  solemnly 
that  but  one  weapon  will  suffice,  the  spear  which 
made  the  wound.  With  it  he  touches  Amfortas's 
side,  and  the  wound  is  healed.  Parsifal  declares  the 
identity  of  the  spear  and  holds  it  aloft,  while  all  gaze 
upon  it  in  rapture.  Parsifal  commands  the  pages  to 
uncover  the  Grail,  which  he  takes  out  and  swings 
gently  before  the  kneeling  knights.  Kundry  sinks 
expiring  to  the  floor.  Gurnemanz  and  Amfortas  kneel 
in  homage  to  Parsifal,  while  from  the  dome  above 
voices  are  heard  singing,  "O  heavenly  mercy's  mar- 
vel, redemption  to  the  redeemer  !  " 

No  other  drama  of  Wagner  shows  wider  departures 
from  the  original  material  or  more  condensation  of  it 


Parsifal  467 

than  this,  the  last  of  his  works.  Here,  as  in  other 
dramas,  he  has  not  rested  upon  any  one  foundation, 
but,  using  the  story  of  Wolfram  as  his  chief  guide,  he 
has  selected  from  other  versions  of  the  Grail  legend 
such  ideas  as  were  in  harmony  with  his  own  poetic 
purpose.  Thus  he  discards  Wolfram's  conception  of 
the  Grail  as  a  stone  from  the  crown  of  Lucifer  and 
goes  back  to  the  Provencal  idea  of  it  as  the  vessel  in 
which  Joseph  of  Arimathea,  the  rich  man  who  bought 
the  body  of  Christ  from  Pilate,  received  the  precious 
blood  from  the  wounds.  From  Wolfram  he  took  the 
idea  that  the  knights  who  dwell  in  Monsalvat,  and 
who  went  forth  to  aid  the  needy  in  distress  (as  in 
"Lohengrin"),  were  fed  and  strengthened  by  the 
Grail  itself.  The  significance  of  the  bleeding  spear  he 
obtained  from  Chretien  de  Troyes.  Wolfram,  it  will 
be  remembered,  made  it  simply  a  poisoned  lance,  with 
which  an  unknown  pagan,  m  the  strife  for  the  Grail, 
had  wounded  Amfortas.  Chretien  described  it  as  the 
spear  with  which  Longinus  had  pierced  the  side  of  the 
crucified  Saviour,  This  idea  could  not  fail  to  attract 
Wagner,  for  it  gave  him  an  opportunity  to  strengthen 
the  ethical  basis  of  his  drama.  Amfortas,  yielding  to 
the  seductions  of  Kundry,  the  temptress,  becomes  the 
prey  of  the  powers  of  evil,  represented  by  Klingsor, 
is  robbed  of  the  sacred  lance,  and  wounded  with  it. 
Such  a  wound  is  more  than  physical;  it  is  a  mortal 
hurt  of  the  soul.  The  cure  comes  only  through  the 
touch  of  the  spear  itself  in  the  hands  of  one  who 
is  pure.  The  wounded  King  exists  in  all  the  versions 
of  the  legend,  and  is  always  to  be  made  whole  by  the 
expected  knight,  who  is  to  ask  the  essential  question. 
But  in  Wagner's  version  the  question  is  not  asked. 


468  Richard  Wagner 

It  has  no  dramatic  value.  As  Wolzogen  has  well 
noted,  for  an  audience  a  visible  and  symbolic  act  is  far 
more  effective;  and  so,  instead  of  hearing  Parsifal  say, 
as  in  Wolfram's  epic,  "What  ails  thee,  uncle?"  we 
see  him  touch  the  wound  with  the  spear  and  bid  Am- 
fortas  "  be  whole,  forgiven,  and  absolved."  By  this 
simple  change  of  the  original  story  the  conclusion  of 
the  drama  is  infinitely  improved.  But  the  alteration 
goes  farther  than  that,  for  it  touches  the  character  of 
Parsifal.  He  is  in,  Wagner's  book,  the  same  guileless 
fool  as  he  is  in  the  original  legends,  but  his  enlighten- 
ment comes  to  him  in  another  way.  Wagner  has 
subjected  his  hero  to  the  temptation  which  in  Wolf- 
ram's story  is  undergone  by  Gawain. 

The  psychologic  plan  of  the  garden  scene  is  subtle, 
but  not  at  all  difficult  of  comprehension.  Parsifal  has 
known  but  one  love;  he  remembers  but  one  tender- 
ness. The  sorest  spot  in  his  conscience  is  that  where 
dwells  the  memory  of  the  dear  mother  whom  he  left. 
Kundry,  acting  as  the  agent  of  the  evil  powers,  seeks 
to  touch  that  spot.  She  awakens  in  her  intended  vic- 
tim the  divine  spark  of  pity,  akin  to  love,  and  then 
she  strives  to  lead  him  onward  to  love  itself  by  the 
imprint  of  a  passionate  kiss.  But  the  influence  of  pity 
has  enlightened  the  inexperienced  heart  of  the  guile- 
less fool,  and  the  kiss  which  would  draw  his  soul 
from  him  serves  but  to  reveal  to  him  the  nature  of  the 
sin  for  which  Amfortas  suffers.  He  cries  out  with  the 
anguish  of  the  very  wound  itself,  and  bids  the  tempt- 
ress begone.  This  is  a  conception  of  unusual  power, 
and  for  the  purpose  of  exposition  through  music  it  is 
most  admirable,  in  that  it  centralises  the  dramatic  ac- 
tion entirely  upon  the  play  of  emotion.     Here  we  find 


Parsifal  469 

the  Wagnerian  theory  of  the  music  drama  working  in 
its  fullest  freedom  and  completeness.  Parsifal  needs 
no  question.  He  never  hears  of  one.  His  awakened 
soul  has  already  given  him  the  necessary  information, 
and  when,  after  long  and  weary  wanderings,  he  once 
more  finds  the  domain  of  the  Grail  he  is  ready  to  heal 
the  sufferer  by  the  only  means  capable  of  performing 
that  merciful  act. 

Kundry  is  entirely  Wagner's  creation.  In  Wolfram's 
story  Condrie  is  the  messenger  who  upbraids  Parsifal 
for  not  healing  the  sick  King,  and  Orgeluse  is  the 
beautiful  woman  who  tempts  Gawain.  Wagner  has 
united  the  two,  but  has  created  a  personality  of  his 
own.  According  to  one  of  the  legends,  Kundry  was 
Herodias,  the  daughter  of  Herod,  and  had  been  cursed 
for  having  laughed  at  the  head  of  John  the  Baptist 
on  a  charger.  Wagner  makes  her  a  woman  who  had 
laughed  at  the  suffering  Christ  and  had  been  con- 
demned by  him  to  endless  laughter.  Thenceforward 
she  wanders  through  the  world  in  search  of  her  re- 
deemer. This  wandering  is  common  to  heroines  of 
the  old  German  legends,  and  shows  us  that  Kundry 
had  certain  traits  in  common  with  the  Valkyrs  of  the 
Northern  mythology.  One  of  the  names  applied  to 
her  by  Klingsor,  Gundryggia,  we  find  also  in  the 
Eddas  as  that  of  a  Valkyr,  and  we  further  recognise  the 
Valkyr  nature  in  the  union  of  hostile  and  helpful  traits 
which  was  characteristic  of  the  Choosers  of  the  Slain. 

Wagner's  Kundry  seeks  to  expiate  her  sin  by  serv- 
ing the  Grail,  but  the  curse  prevents  her.  Through  it 
she  becomes  the  slave  of  the  powers  of  evil,  repre- 
sented by  Klingsor,  and,  when  under  the  spell,  exer- 
cises her  entire  force  in  seducing  the  defenders  of  the 


470  Richard  Wagner 

right.  Not  until  one  of  tiie  righteous  resists  her  can 
the  power  of  the  evil  one  be  overthrown,  and  not  till 
then  can  she  be  released  from  the  burden  of  her  sin. 
In  other  words,  through  resisting  her,  Parsifal  be- 
comes her  redeemer,  and  it  is  thus  natural  and  proper 
that  he  should  baptise  her,  and  that  in  the  scene  of  the 
baptism  the  laughter-cursed  woman  should  receive 
the  blessing  of  tears. 

The  relation  of  Kundry  and  Parsifal  as  temptress 
and  tempted  was  one  which  had  long  dwelt  in  Wag- 
ner's mind.  When  in  1852  he  revived  the  idea,  con- 
ceived in  1849,  of  writing  a  drama  on  incidents  in  the 
life  of  Jesus,  he  told  Mrs.  Wille,  his  Zurich  friend,  that 
he  thought  of  showing  Christ  as  beloved  by  Mary  Mag- 
dalene and  resisting  her.  Again  in  "  The  Victors,"  the 
Buddhistic  drama,  which  he  only  sketched,  we  find 
that  Ananda,  the  hero,  renounced  love  and  was  per- 
fectly pure,  while  Prakriti,  the  heroine,  after  loving 
him  in  vain,  herself  renounced  love  and  was  received 
by  him  into  the  true  faith.  It  was  with  these  plans 
still  in  his  mind  that  Wagner  developed  the  suggest- 
ions of  the  original  sources  of  his  drama  mto  the  won- 
derful scene  of  the  temptation  in  "  Parsifal,"  and  their 
mfluence  also  was  potent  in  the  composition  of  the 
character  of  Kundry.  Mr.  Kufferath,  in  his  interest- 
ing study  of  "  Parsifal,"  says  that  Kundry  was  to 
Wagner's  mind  simply  another  incarnation  of  the  eter- 
nal woman,  of  whom  Mary  and  Prakriti  were  earlier 
embodiments.  And,  indeed,  the  extraordinary  capac- 
ity of  Kundry 's  nature  makes  this  theory  more  than 
merely  plausible.  Another  fact  which  adds  to  the  value 
of  Mr.  Kufferath's  idea  is  that,  according  to  one  of  the 
earlier  German  legends,  the  real  cause  of  the  enmity  of 


Parsifal  471 

Herodias  for  John  the  Baptist  was  his  refusal  of  her 
love.  When  the  head  was  presented  to  her  on  a  charger, 
she  wished  to  kiss  the  dead  lips,  but  from  them  was 
breathed  upon  her  a  blast  of  breath  so  fierce  that  it 
sent  her  wandering  through  the  world  as  the  unfortu- 
nate Francesca  flew  through  the  Inferno  forever. 
This  stormy  wandering  was  a  peculiarity  of  the  Val- 
kyrs, and  thus  with  the  union  of  so  many  elements 
in  the  history  and  nature  of  Kundry,  we  come  easily 
to  a  belief  that  Wagner  intended  to  make  her  one  of 
the  aspects  of  the  "eternal  feminine."  Beautifully  he 
gives  her  rest  when  the  same  blessing  is  conferred 
upon  the  man  whose  life  she  ruined.  She  has  repented, 
but  till  her  victim  is  freed  from  the  consequences  of 
the  joint  sin,  she,  too,  must  suffer  her  punishment. 

In  the  character  of  Parsifal  himself  certain  traits  are 
accentuated  by  Wagner.  These  are  the  complete  inno- 
cence and  the  compassionate  nature.  With  compassion 
Wagner  had  a  deep  sympathy.  He  was  so  tender  to 
dumb  animals  and  to  animate  creatures  in  general 
that  he  felt  readily  the  essence  of  pity  which  plays  so 
important  a  part  in  the  old  legends.  But  the  older 
Parsifals,  when  on  their  travels,  were  warriors  ; 
they  fought  their  way  through  life,  felling  ruthlessly 
all  who  opposed  them.  Wagner's  Parsifal  is  all  ten- 
derness and  pity.  Here,  again,  we  meet  with  the 
powerful  influence  on  Wagner  of  Schopenhauer. 
Enlightenment  by  pity  is  the  ethical  principle  of 
Schopenhauer's  philosophy.  Something,  too,  must 
be  attributed  to  Wagner's  interest  in  religion.  Liszt, 
an  emotionalist  in  worship,  inspired  Wagner  with 
emotionalism  in  sacred  matters,  and  we  may  infer 
that  certain  rapt  states  of  mind,  not  uncommon  to 


472  Richard  Wagner 

thinkers  of  the  hysteric  sort,  worked  in  the  formation 
of   "Parsifal." 

For  the  rest  there  is  little  to  say,  Gurnemanz  com- 
bines the  persons  and  acts  of  the  Gurnemanz  and 
Trevrezent  of  the  epics.  Klingsor  follows  the  outline 
provided  by  the  earlier  stones,  but  Wagner  has  added 
one  feature  not  found  in  them.  This  magician,  with 
his  soul  tainted  with  some  unknown  sin,  was  unable 
to  slay  the  lust  which  ever  burned  in  his  bosom,  and 
in  order  that  he  might  win  the  Grail  he  mutilated  him- 
self. Here  we  come  upon  another  resemblance  be- 
tween this  story  and  that  of  the  Nibelung  hoard.  To 
win  the  gold  Alberich  renounced  love.  We  have 
already  seen  how  the  Grail  resembles  the  hoard,  and 
this  incident  in  the  life  of  Klingsor,  added  by  Wagner, 
brings  the  two  stories  even  closer  together. 

In  telling  the  story,  Wagner  has  pushed  to  the  front 
all  the  most  beautiful  elements,  and  has  accentuated  the 
Christianity  of  the  tale.  He  has  preached  a  sermon  on 
the  necessity  of  personal  purity  in  the  service  of  God, 
on  the  beauty  of  renunciation  of  sensual  delight,  on 
the  depth  of  the  curse  of  self-indulgence,  and  on  the 
nature  of  repentance.  But  let  it  not  be  supposed  that 
the  influence  of  "Parsifal"  rests  wholly  on  the  ethical 
truths  contained  in  it.  Its  real  power  is  in  Wagner's 
perception  of  the  emotional  force  of  the  action  of 
certain  ethical  ideas  upon  human  nature.  By  cen- 
tralising the  action  of  his  drama  on  these  emotions, 
he  has  put  before  us  a  tremendous  play  of  the  inner 
life  of  man's  soul  when  struggling  with  its  most  for- 
midable problems,  its  own  most  irresistible  passions. 
"Parsifal"  is  a  religious  drama,  but  it  is  one  for  the 
same   reason  that  the    "Prometheus"  of  y^schylus 


Parsifal  473 

was.  It  is  a  problem  play  also,  and  for  the  same 
reason  as  any  modern  French  social  drama  is.  Its 
boldness  lies  in  the  fact  that  it  readopts  the  stage  as 
the  medium  for  the  publication  of  tenets  of  religious 
belief  and  for  the  exhibition  of  the  naked  soul  be- 
sieged by  lust  and  tried  by  the  moral  law.  That  use 
was  common  in  the  time  of  the  Greek  tragedians.  It 
is  an  exemplification  of  Wagner's  theory  that  the 
theatre  ought  to  be  an  artistic  expression  of  the 
thoughts  and  the  aspirations  of  a  people.  Its  moving 
power  lies  in  its  grasp  on  the  secret  life  of  every  man 
and  woman  who  goes  to  witness  its  performance. 

III. — The  Musical  Plan 

The  musical  plan  of  "Parsifal"  is  one  of  peculiar 
power  and  its  outward  aspects  are  of  great  beauty. 
The  first  act  is  almost  wholly  devoted  to  an  exposi- 
tion of  the  fundamental  thoughts  of  the  drama.  We 
are  introduced  to  the  realm  of  the  Grail,  the  suffering 
of  Amfortas,  the  eagerness  of  Kundry  to  serve  and 
her  enslavement  to  the  will  of  Klingsor,  to  the  "guile- 
less fool "  and  his  failure  to  ask  the  question,  and  to 
the  solemn  ceremony  of  the  Last  Supper.  The  second 
act  is  devoted  to  a  presentation  of  the  working  of  the 
evil  element.  Klingsor  through  his  flower-maidens 
strives  to  seduce  the  guileless  fool,  who  is  saved 
largely  by  his  own  guilelessness.  Here  we  have  all 
the  most  sensuous  and  freely  composed  music.  The 
first  act  teems  with  the  fundamental  and  significant 
motives  of  the  score.  The  second  is  rich  in  luscious 
melody,  spontaneous,  dance-like  in  form  and  colour, 
and  asking  of  the  hearer  nothing  but  self-relaxation. 


474 


Richard  Wagner 


The  third  act  again  becomes  solemn,  but  in  its  first 
scene  the  solemnity  is  charged  with  the  deep  and 
quiet  joy  of  Good  Friday.  With  the  return  to  the 
castle  of  the  Grail,  the  fundamental  motives  are  once 
more  brought  into  action  and  the  development  of 
themes  reaches  its  climax. 

The  prelude  to  the  drama  sets  forth  some  of  the 
principal  musical  ideas  and  attunes  the  mind  to  the 
key  of  the  first  act.  It  opens  with  the  solemn  strains 
of  the  theme  of  the  Last  Supper. 

THE  LAST  SUPPER. 


:sty 


tfc: 


-^ 


s 


V    '  -gi- 


3:  -»■ 


This  theme  becomes  one  of  the  principal  elements  of 
the  score,  being  utilised  throughout  the  drama  to  sig- 
nify the  sacredness  of  the  association  of  the  knights  of 
the  Grail.  The  second  theme  of  the  prelude  is  that 
of  the  Grail  itself,  which  is  here  presented  to  us  in 
a  different  musical  aspect  from  that  of  the  "Lohen- 
grin "  score.  There  the  Grail  was  celebrated  as  a 
potency  by  which  the  world  was  aided,  while  here  it 
is  brought  before  us  as  the  visible  embodiment  of  a 
faith,  the  memento  of  a  crucified  Saviour.  The  theme 
is,  therefore,  one  of  much  solemnity. 

THE  GRAIL. 


Parsifal 


475 


The  Vorspiel  next  proclaims,  in  a  manner  which  leaves 
us  no  doubt  of  its  purport,  the  triumphant  motive  of 
Belief: 


BELIEF. 


^^n=^ 

AAA 

^J— J — r 

A 

\ — 

A 

— r 

A 

Z—\ 

/ 

_■! J j^ 

=^- 

ts-^ 

=^ 

=?^i^ 

^^¥4-^ 



-J- 

1 

.^: ' 

1 
'  -J. 

These  three  ideas — the  Last  Supper,  the  Grail,  and  Be- 
lief— form  the  materials  of  the  prelude,  and  become  of 
fundamental  importance  in  the  score  of  the  drama 
proper.  They  play  their  parts  chiefly  in  the  first  and 
third  acts  in  putting  the  hearer  in  the  proper  mood  for 
the  appreciation  of  the  solemn  ceremonials  in  the 
Grail  castle  and  for  a  full  comprehension  of  the  re- 
ligious elements  of  the  drama.  For  the  suffering  of 
Amfortas,  with  which  we  are  made  acquainted  in  the 
first  scene,  there  is  a  musical  symbol,  which  is  utilised 
throughout  the  score  at  the  proper  places: 


AMFORTAS'S  SUFFERING 


A  very  beautiful  answer  to  this  is  the  music  with 
which  the  promise  of  the  healing  knight  is  introduced, 
it  is  sung  by  Gurnemanz,  and  repeated  by  the  young 
knights  who  are  with  him: 


476 


Richard  Wagner 


THE  PROMISE. 

.'   .  I  J  \ 

1   1 

-J-  .. 

|— J U-^ 

Darch 

L^ 3==i 

Mit  -  leid 

4-    f' 

wis-send        der 

-r- 

rei 

-    ne 

Thor 

^^^I — , 

f=.     -f     - 

By        pit    - 


'lightened      The     gtiil 


less     fool. 


With  Kundry  we  find  associated  three  principal  musical 
ideas.  The  first  of  these  is  that  which  places  before 
us  the  wildness  of  her  nature,  the  stormy  flight,  and 
the  curse  of  laughter: 

THE  WILD  KUNDRY. 


The  second  is  a  theme  designed  to  represent  the  ele- 
ment of  magic,  as  exercised  by  Klingsor  in  the  control 
of  Kundry: 


Lastly,  we  have  one  of  those  simple  themes  in  thirds 
which  always  seemed  to  mean  sympathy  or  helpful- 
ness to  the  mind  of  Wagner.  It  first  appears  in  the 
score  when  Gurnemanz  asks  Kundry  whence  she 
brought  the  balsam: 


Parsifal 


477 


f 


KUNDRY  THE  HELPFUL. 

_4 ^ 


^ 


The  personality  of  Klingsor  himself  is  indicated  by 
this  theme: 


KLINGSOR. 


f 


^g 


-^^- 


^?«^ 


Two  themes  are  especially  associated  with  Parsifal. 
The  first  is  that  of  his  mother,  Herzeleide.  This  theme 
has  importance  because  of  Kundry's  use  of  the  his- 
tory of  the  mother  to  touch  the  heart  of  the  son: 

HERZELEIDE. 


' —  I  ^-^ 


The  Parsifal  theme,   however,  is  used  to   designate 
directly  the  personality  of  the  guileless  knight: 

fARSIFAL. 


^^^ 


r 


^^^ 
t^—^ 


^ 


^ 


478 


Richard  Wagner 


Let  the  reader  compare  this  motive  with  that  of  Lo- 
hengrin (see  page  286),  and  note  the  close  musical  re- 
lationship. This  is  in  part  an  inversion  of  that,  while 
the  triple  rhythm  here  used  robs  the  Parsifal  theme  of 
the  militant  brilliancy  found  in  that  of  the  rescuing 
knight  of  the  earlier  drama.  At  the  entrance  of  Par- 
sifal, who  has  just  shot  a  swan,  we  hear  again  the 
Swan  motive  from  "  Lohengrin  "  (see  page  287).  The 
interval  between  the  first  and  second  scenes  of  the  first 
act  introduces  a  new  theme  of  great  beauty.  Gurne- 
manz  leads  Parsifal  toward  the  castle  of  the  Grail,  and 
a  remarkable  change  of  scene  is  effected  by  the  use  of 
a  panorama.  During  this  change  an  instrumental  pass- 
age is  built  up  on  the  tones  of  the  castle  bells,  which, 
at  first  heard  distantly,  gradually  swell  to  a  grand  peal: 

THE  BELLS. 


As  we  come  with  the  two  to  the  hall  of  the  Grail  we 
hear  the  musical  representation  of  the  cry  or  lament  of 
the  Saviour: 

THE  LAMENT. 


Parsifal  479 

The  love-feast  scene,  which  follows,  is  made  up  of  the 
principal  themes  relating  to  the  Grail  and  the  faith  of 
the  knights,  which  are  developed  in  choruses  of  won- 
derful beauty.  The  opening  of  the  second  act  brings 
the  motives  of  Klingsor,  sorcery,  and  the  suffering  of 
Amfortas  all  into  active  use.  The  music  is  stormy, 
passionate,  at  times  furious,  till  the  flower-maidens 
appear  to  tempt  Parsifal,  and  then  Vv^e  come  to  the 
long  passage  of  freely  written  melody  already  de- 
scribed. The  significant  themes  return  in  the  scene 
between  Kundry  and  Parsifal,  but  their  use  is  so  ob- 
vious that  it  requires  no  comment.  With  the  awaken- 
ing of  Parsifal's  understanding  and  his  recital  of  his 
new  discoveries,  there  enters  a  motive  not  previously 
heard,  that  of  Good  Friday: 

GOOD  FRIDAY. 


In  the  first  scene  of  the  third  act  another  new  theme, 
that  of  the  atonement,  comes  forward: 

ATONEMENT. 


r 

We  have  now  before  us  the  principal  musical  materials 
of  the  score.  But  in  no  other  of  Wagner's  dramas  is 
the  mere  enumeration  of  themes  so  unsatisfactory  as 
it  is  in  "  Parsifal."  The  combination  of  the  musical 
ideas  is  so  subtle,  the  building  of  the  large  mood  pic- 
tures, of  which  they  are  the  elements,  so  masterly, 
the  effect  of  the  general  result  so  potent  with  the 
hearer,   that   in   "Parsifal"    one  may  with  the  most 


480  Richard  Wagner 

perfect  security  throw  aside  all  study  of  the  thematic 
catalogues  and  abandon  himself  to  the  dramatic  influ- 
ence of  the  music.  This  does  not  mean  that  "  Parsi- 
fal "  is  a  more  artistic  work  than  Wagner's  other 
dramas,  but  that  the  moods  are  so  large  and  so  ele- 
mentary that  music  very  readily  embodies  them  and 
brings  the  auditor  under  their  influence.  JVluch  of 
this  is  due  no  doubt  to  the  atmosphere  of  the  Bayreuth 
Theatre,  where  alone  up  to  the  present  this  work  can 
be  heard.  What  the  effect  of  "Parsifal"  will  be 
when  divorced  from  its  present  surroundings  must  be 
a  matter  of  speculation,  but  the  most  devoted  Wag- 
nerites  will  continue  to  hope  that  this  art-work  will 
not  speedily  become  the  property  of  the  ordinary 
opera-house. 


APPENDIX  A 

THE   YOUTHFUL   SYMPHONY 

Most  of  Wagner's  biographers  have  underestimated  the  historical 
importance  of  the  juvenile  symphony  of  the  master.  Mr.  Seidl  wrote: 
"  As  one  takes  off  his  hat  in  Leipsic  before  the  house  in  which  Wag- 
ner was  born,  in  order  to  honour  the  spot  where  a  great  genius  first 
saw  the  light,  so  the  musician  of  the  future  will  take  this  symphony 
into  his  hands  with  the  greatest  interest  and  amazement,  since  it  is 
one  of  the  foundation-blocks  of  the  structure  whose  capstones  are 
'Tristan,'  '  Gotterdammerung,'  and  'Parsifal.'"  The  truth  is,  that 
most  of  the  biographers  never  heard  the  symphony  performed,  it  was 
produced  by  the  late  Anton  Seidl  in  Chickering  Hall,  New  York,  on 
Friday  evening,  March  2,  1888,  and  it  was  my  fortune  to  hear  the 
performance.  At  that  time  Mr.  Seidl  wrote  to  the  New  York  Tribune 
the  letter  from  which  the  foregoing  quotation  was  taken,  and  gave  an 
account  of  the  finding  of  the  lost  parts  of  the  work.      He  said  : 

"  He  [Wagner]  was  continually  recurring  to  a  symphony  which  he 
had  lost  sight  of  after  one  performance  in  Leipsic  at  a  concert  of  the 
Euterpe,  and  one  performance  in  WiJrzburg.  In  the  latter  place  it  was 
that  the  trombone  parts  were  lost.  Letters  were  written  in  all  direc- 
tions to  all  his  friends  and  acquaintances,  but  no  trace  of  the  symphony 
was  found.  Then  he  requested  the  litterateur  Tappert,  of  Berlin,  a 
zealous  and  lucky  discoverer  of  Wagnerian  relics,  to  make  journeys 
wherever  he  thought  it  advisable  in  the  interest  of  the  symphony. 
Tappert,  after  many  inquiries  and  much  reflection,  drafted  a  plan  of 
discovery  following  lines  suggested  by  the  biography  of  the  master, 
and  set  out  upon  a  tour  through  Wurzburg,  Magdeburg,  Leipsic, 
Prague,  and  finally  Dresden.  In  each  place  he  ransacked  all  the 
dwellings,  inns,  theatres  and  concert-rooms  in  which  Wagner  had 
lived  or  laboured  ;  but  in  vain.  At  last  in  Dresden  he  visited  Tichat- 
schek,  the  famous  tenor,  who  at  this  time  was  already  bedridden.     He 

481 


482  Richard  Wagner 

knew  all  the  houses  in  which  Wagner  had  lived  while  he  was  Hof- 
Kapellmeister,  but  nothing  was  to  be  found  in  any  of  them.  Tichat- 
schek  got  a  little  disgruntled  at  the  much  questioning  to  which  he  was 
subjected  and  Tappert  had  to  return  to  Berlin.  Before  doing  so,  how- 
ever, he  requested  Furstenau,  the  flautist,  to  cross-question  Tichat- 
schek  thoroughly  some  day,  when  he  was  in  a  good  humour,  concerning 
the  possible  whereabouts  of  some  trunks  which  Wagner  had  left  be- 
hind him  in  Dresden  ;  for  Wagner  had  once  said  that  when  he  fled 
from  Dresden  he  left  all  his  possessions  and  did  not  know  what  had 
become  of  them. 

"  The  scheme  was  successful.  Tichatschek  remembered  that  in  his 
own  attic  were  several  old  trunks  belonging  to  he  did  not  know 
whom.  Furstenau  looked  through  them,  but  soon  came  down  and 
declared  that,  though  musical  m.anuscripts  were  in  the  attic,  they 
were  only  unknown  parts  and  that  none  bore  Wagner's  handwriting. 
Tappert  called  for  the  parts  to  be  sent  to  Berlin  for  his  inspection.  He 
recognised  at  a  glance  that  they  were  not  in  his  handwriting,  but  on 
carefully  examining  the  separate  sheets  he  found  memoranda  in  lead 
pencil  which  he  thought  looked  like  the  youthful  handwriting  of  Wag- 
ner. To  assure  himself,  he  copied  the  first  theme  of  the  first  violin 
part  and  sent  it  to  Wagner's  wife,  who  played  it  on  a  pianoforte  in  a 
room  adjoining  that  in  which  Wagner,  suspecting  nothing,  sat  at 
breakfast.  The  master  listened  a  moment  in  silence  and  then  ran  into 
the  room,  joyfully  shouting  that  it  was  the  theme  of  the  symphony  for 
which  he  was  hunting.  The  discovery  was  made  !  The  parts  were 
sent  at  once  to  Bayreuth,  and  I  was  called  upon  to  make  the  score  out 
of  them." 

The  trombone  parts  of  the  last  movement  were  missing,  but  Wagner 
subsequently  discovered  the  key  to  the  leading  of  these  voices  in  the 
elaborately  contrapuntal  scheme  of  the  movement  and  rewrote  them. 
The  symphony  was  then  ready  for  performance.  It  was  Wagner's 
original  intention  to  play  the  symphony  on  the  fiftieth  anniversary  of 
the  beginning  of  his  artistic  career.  But  he  was  unable  to  carry  out 
this  plan.  He  subsequently  decided  to  have  it  given  for  the  Christmas 
celebration  of  1882,  and  accordingly  it  was  played  under  his  own  baton 
in  Venice  at  the  birthday  fete  of  his  wife. 

The  symphony,  which  is  in  the  conventional  four  movements,  and 
is  in  the  key  of  C  major,  contains  a  curious  mingling  of  juvenility  in 
ideas  with  maturity  of  handling,  it  shows  that  Weinlig's  lessons  in 
counterpoint  were  not  lost,  for  its  polyphony  is  masterly,  and  the  close 


Appendix  A 


483 


working  out  of  the  last  movement,  in  the  style  of  Mozart's  fugal 
"Jupiter"  symphony,  may  well  have  aroused  the  admiration  of 
Rochlitz. 

The  symphony  begins  with  an  introduction  marked   sostenuto  e 
maestoso,  built  on  this  theme. 


CI.  in  8ves. 


It  will  readily  be  seen  that  this  is  a  simple  and  effective  theme,  de- 
signed with  a  view  to  contrapuntal  treatment.  Free  modulation, 
transposition  of  parts,,and  alteration  of  details  make  up  the  general 
treatment  of  this  motive.  The  first  movement,  allegro  con  brio,  is 
built  on  a  first  subject,  inspiringly  vigorous  in  movement,  but  quite 
devoid  of  originality  in  melodic  foim. 


484 


Richard  Wagner 


This  is  announced  in  a  forcible  manner,  copied  after  some  of  the 
Titanic  outbursts  of  Beethoven.  There  is  a  short  development  of  this 
theme,  in  the  course  of  which  the  germ  of  the  second  subject  appears. 
Thus  Wagner  early  endeavoured  to  follow  the  plan  of  Beethoven  in 
making  his  second  subjects  grow  out  of  his  first.  The  second  theme, 
when  revealed  in  its  entirety,  proves  to  be  this: 


i 


* 


W 


^^ 


The  master  utilised  the  rhythmic  clearness  of  this  thought  in  the 
production  of  bold,  march-like  effects.  Two  episodes  are  introduced, 
and  in  these  one  hears  the  voice  of  the  future  Wagner.  One  of  them 
bears  a  striking  resemblance  in  character  to  the  music  of  the  fight  be- 
tween Siegfried  and  the  dragon.  The  working  out  is  confined  almost 
wholly  to  the  first  subject,  with  occasional  use  of  the  episodes,  and 
the  recapitulation  is  reached  by  a  strenuous  climax,  in  which  the 
orchestral  thunderer  of  the  future  may  be  heard. 

The  second  movement,  andante,  opens  with  two  sustained  notes,  C 
and  E,  given  out  by  the  oboes  and  clarinets,  followed  by  a  graceful 
introductory  phrase,  prefatory  to  a  lovely  melody  of  folk-song  charac- 
ter, which  is  announced  by  the  violas  and  gradually  spread  among  the 
entire  body  of  instruments. 


i:^-     *~    T^j     zz    ,        lJT     '       "^    1    uP     ■ill 


rj-^-^. 


Iff:  etc. 


Wagner  himself  said  that  this  movement  could  never   have  been 
written  had  not  the  fifth  and  seventh  symphonies  of  Beethoven  been 


Appendix  A 


485 


known  to  him,  but  although  his  method  of  construction  follows  that 
of  the  sovereign  of  the  symphonic  world,  his  ideas  and  his  orchestral 
expression  of  them  are  his  own.  The  second  theme  of  the  andante, 
which  need  not  be  quoted,  is  martial,  thus  giving  the  necessary  con- 
trast to  the  movement. 

The  third  movement  is  the  scherzo,   marked  allegro  assai.     The 
movement  is  decidedly  imitative,  yet  it  shows  that  the  youth  had  at- 
tained a  remarkable  mastery  of  form  and  style.     The  first  theme  is 
this: 
P 


This  sweeps  along  in  a  bright  and  vivacious  manner,  full  of  sunny 
simplicity.     Then  comes  the  trio  founded  on  this  idea  : 


P  dolce 


The  working  out  of  the  ideas  is  really  very  ingenious,  and  despite  the 
imitations  the  movement  goes  far  to  demonstrate  the  possession  of 
high  gifts  by  the  young  composer.  The  last  movement,  allegro  molto 
vivace,  is  the  least  pleasing  to  the  average  hearer,  but  it  is  an  amazing 
exhibition  of  contrapuntal  mastery  in  one  so  immature.  The  principal 
theme  is  this  : 


ff  Vl'ns  8ves, 


Here  the  model  in  thought  is  Mozart,  and  the  same  master  is  fol- 
lowed in  the  working  out.    Wagner,  in  later  years,  speaking  of  the  boy 


486  Richard  Wagner 

who  wrote  this  symphony,  said:  "  He  cares  no  more  for  melodies, 
only  for  themes  and  their  treatment;  he  delights  in  the  stretti  of  the 
fugue,  in  the  combination  of  two  or  three  motives  ;  he  enters  into 
orgies  of  counterpoint  ;  he  exhausts  every  imaginable  artifice."  This 
is  a  sufficient  description  of  this  new  "Jupiter  "  movement,  which 
ends  with  a  stirring  peroration,  presto,  closing  with  as  many  chords  of 
the  tonic  and  dominant  as  there  are  at  the  finish  of  the  fifth  symphony 
of  Beethoven. 


APPENDIX  B 

WAGNER  AND  THE   BALLET 

The  difficulties  which  have  always  stood  in  the  path  of  a  realisation 
of  Wagner's  ideals  in  regard  to  the  ballet  in  opera  are  worthy  of  some 
consideration,  because  they  are  the  results  of  a  high  conception  of  the 
functions  of  the  dance  in  the  drama.  Wagner's  troubles  in  this  de- 
partment began  with  his  "  Rienzi."  in  his  "  Communication  "  he 
says  :  "  I  by  no  means  hunted  about  in  my  material  for  a  pretext  for 
a  ballet,  but  with  the  eyes  of  the  opera  composer  I  perceived  in  it  a 
self-evident  festival  that  Rienzi  must  give  to  the  people,  and  at  which 
he  would  have  to  exhibit  to  them  in  dumb  show  a  drastic  scene  from 
their  ancient  history,  this  scene  being  the  story  of  Lucretia  and  the 
consequent  expulsion  of  the  Tarquins  from  Rome."  He  confesses  in  a 
note  that  this  ballet  had  to  be  omitted  from  all  the  stage  performances 
of  "  Rienzi." 

Why?  Simply  because  the  pantomimic  ballet  called  for  imagina- 
tion on  the  part  of  the  ballet-master  and  mimetic  skill  in  the  dancers, 
if  these  elements  in  the  ballet  were  wanting  in  Wagner's  day,  they  are 
almost  wholly  absent  now.  Yet,  except  in  cases  where  the  ballet  is 
seen  by  the  spectator  to  be  a  mere  entertainment  for  the  personages  on 
the  stage,  as  in  the  garden  scene  of  "  Les  Huguenots,"  it  ought  to 
have  some  connection  with  the  drama.  That  later  composers  than 
Wagner  have  had  some  desires  of  this  sort  is  proved  by  the  presence 
of  the  Brocken  scene  in  Boito's  "  Mefistofele,"  the  inferno  scene  in 
Franchetti's  "  Asrael,"  and  other  such  episodes.  But  nowhere  is  there 
such  an  opportunity  for  a  highly  significant  ballet  as  in  the  first  scene 
of  "  TannhaiJser." 

Whoever  cares  to  read  it,  may  find  in  the  essay  of  Wagner  on  the 
"  Art- work  of  the  Future"  a  long  disquisition  on  the  nature  of  the 
dance.  In  brief,  he  says  that  in  the  dance  the  material  is  man  himself, 
and  the  method  of  expression  is  motion.     This  motion  is  governed  by 

487 


488  Richard  Wagner 

rhythm,  but  its  purpose  is  the  communication  of  the  essence  of  the 
material  to  the  spectator.  In  other  words  —  not  Wagner's — dance 
approaches  speech  from  one  side  just  as  absolute  music  does  from  the 
other,  it  is  a  painter  of  mood  pictures,  just  as  an  orchestra  is.  It 
therefore  reaches  its  highest  form  in  pantomime,  or  mimetic  action. 
Again,  in  "  Opera  and  Drama,"  Wagner  tells  us  at  some  length  how 
ballet  music  as  written  by  the  conventional  opera  composer  has  cramped 
the  development  of  this  beautiful  art  of  mimetic  dancing,  the  very  art, 
in  a  sense,  from  which  the  drama  itself  originated  at  the  altar  of  Bac- 
chus. By  writing  in  the  prescribed  dance-forms  and  rhythms  the 
composer  compelled  the  dancer  to  confine  himself  to  certain  conven- 
tional steps  and  figures.  Wagner's  ideal  was  a  symphonic  poem  of 
motion,  mimetic  in  its  essence,  following  the  incidents  of  a  story,  and 
moving  to  the  strains  of  an  orchestral  background  which  should  free 
the  dancer  from  formulas  and  at  the  same  time  paint  in  tone-colours  the 
moods  of  the  pantomime. 

The  difficulty  in  the  way  of  realising  this  ideal  at  present  is  the  total 
separation  of  the  arts  of  dancing  and  pantomime.  Only  a  few  of  the 
dancers  of  to-day  possess  the  old-fashioned  schooling  which  would 
make  possible  a  performance  of  Auber's  "  La  Muette  de  Portici."  To 
this  unique  work  Wagner  owed  much  of  the  food  for  thought  which 
resulted  in  his  opinions  upon  the  office  of  the  ballet  in  opera.  1  have 
witnessed  some  representations  of  this  work  in  recent  years  —  not 
many  —  but  always  with  sorrow  at  the  utter  inability  of  the  imper- 
sonator of  the  dumb  girl  to  realise  the  author's  conception.  She  has 
always  been  a  mere  ballet-dancer,  striving  to  perform  her  work  on  the 
strict  lines  of  the  conventional  stage  dance.  Now  what  such  a  part 
requires  is  some  one  who  can  dance,  but  who  does  act.  And  that  is 
what  the  Wagner  ballet,  especially  in  "  Tannhauser,"  needs.  The 
conventional  ballet  steps  and  arm  movements  are  at  once  seen  to  be 
absurd,  or  else  they  make  the  scene  appear  so  to  the  thoughtless  spec- 
tator, who  notes  only  what  he  sees.  To  interpret  properly  the  Venus- 
berg  scene  of  Wagner's  third  opera  there  should  really  be  a  corps  of 
Pilar-Morins.  But  just  here  again  would  come  a  difficulty.  The 
Pilar-Morins  would  not  be  dancers,  and,  while  they  might  perform  an 
intelligible  pantomime,  they  would  obliterate  from  their  work  every 
trace  of  rhythm,  and  thus  once  more  be  untrue  to  Wagner's  almost 
intangible,  yet  not  impracticable,  ideal. 

And  of  course  in  the  end  we  have  to  reckon  with  a  public  which 
has  no  skill  in  the  comprehension  of  pantomime,  and  hardly  any  in 


Appendix  B  489 

the  appreciation  of  the  dance.  For  in  this  frivolous  age  of  pictorial 
dramatic  art  the  dance  means  coloured  lights  and  high  kicking.  Helas  ! 
Yet  I  still  believe  that  if  Wagner's  designs  in  such  scenes  as  that  of  the 
Venusberg  and  the  Roman  festival  in  "  Rienzi  "  could  be  properly 
carried  out,  the  public  would  awake  to  the  existence  of  a  poetic  and 
beautifully  graphic  art  which  is  now  quite  unknown  to  it. 


INDEX 


Explanatory  Note.  —  Subjects  directly  connected  with  the  personal  experi- 
ences of  Wagner  will  be  found  alphabetically  indexed  under  Wagner,  Richard. 
Names  of  persons  and  topics  associated  with  Wagner's  life  and  works,  but  having 
importance  in  themselves,  will  be  found  in  the  general  index.  All  topics  directly 
connected  with  the  great  music  dramas  (except  leading  motives)  are  indexed  under 
the  titles  of  the  works.  All  the  musical  illustrations,  with  their  explanations,  are 
indexed  under  Leading  Motives. 


"  AUons  a  la  Courtille,"  41 

Ander,  1 18 

Anderson,  98 

"A  Pilgrimage  to  Beethoven," 
42 

"  Art  and  Climate,';  86 

"  Art  and  Revolution,"  76,  S6, 
179,  180 

Art,  as  found  by  Wagner,  1 76 

Arthurian  legends,  see  "  Parsi- 
fal "  and  "  Tristan  und  Isolde  " 

Artistic  career  of  Wagner,  periods 
of,  213,  214 

Art-Theories  of  Wagner,  167  et 
seq. ;  alliteration,  200  et  seq. ; 
ballet,  487  ;  commercialism  op- 
posed to,  174,  176;  discovery 
of,  176;  drama,  not  opera, 
204  ;  early,  18  et  seq.,  228  ; 
emotions,  musical  treatment 
of,  183,  185,  197,  205,  208, 
209,  216;  ethical  ideas,  215  ; 
feeling  and  understanding,  1 82 ; 
form,  adopted,  186  et  seq., 
198,  199;  forms,  abolished,  178, 
185  et  seq.,  197;  fully  devel- 
oped, nature  of,    167  et  seq.; 


good  and  evil  principles,  war  of, 

216  ;  Greek  drama,  relations  to, 
179,  184,  207,  218;  historical 
drama  as  opposed  to  mythical, 
183  et  seq.  ;  ideal  of  his  work, 
206 ;  incompatibility  with 
"opera"  discovered,  177; 
later,  conceived,  53  ;  later, 
expanded,  61,  74  ;  leitmotiv 
system,  186,  187,  190  et  seq.  ; 
leitmotive  classified,  193  ;  leit- 
motive,  development  of,  193  et 
seq.;  libretto  a  drama,  178; 
lyric  drama,  relation  to,  i68  et 
seq.;  materials  of  poetic  drama, 
182,  183  ;  melody,  endless, 
186,    187  ;    metaphysics,   216, 

217  ;  misunderstood  by  ad- 
mirers, 161  ;  misunderstood  by 
public,  167  ;  moods,  embodi- 
ment of,  198,  205,  206;  music 
for  music's  sake,  1 78  ;  music, 
office  of,  in  drama,  190;  musical 
system,  186,  189  et  seq.,  196, 
•  97)  '98,  208,  209;  myth, 
advantage  of  in  drama,  183  et 
seq.  ;  nationalism,  167,  208  ; 
opera,  old  style,  differences  of, 
168  et  seq. ;  opposed  to  public 


491 


492 


Index 


Art-Theories — Continued. 
taste,  6i,  66,  61,  69,  70,  160, 
161;  orchestra,  189,  190,  206  ; 
organic  union  of  arts,  178,  180, 
186;  philosophical  basis  of 
dramas,  216;  propagation  of, 
67,  85  et  seq.  ;  prose  works 
embodying,  86  et  seq.,  17Q  et 
seq. ;  realism  as  opposed  to 
high  art,  206,  207  ;  reforms  in- 
cluded in,  178;  Schopenhauer's 
ideas,  184,  216,  217;  staff- 
rhyme,  200  et  seq.;  symbolism 
in  drama,  204  et  seq. ;  text  and 
music,  union  of,  186,  202,  203, 
219;  understood  by  Liszt, 
81  ;  verse-form,  200  et  seq.; 
woman,  saving  grace,  215  ; 
"  Word-tone-speech,"  204 

"Art-Work  of  the   Future,"  86, 
179,  180 

Attila,  369  et  seq. 

Auber,  "  La  Muette  de  Portici," 
influence  on  Wagner,  18,  45 

Auditorium  darkened,  140 

Autobiographic  sketch,  52 


B 


Ballet    in    "  Tannhauser,"    114, 

"5 

Ballet,  Wagner  and  the,  1 14,  487 

Barbarossa,  Friedrich,  72 

Bayreuth,  becomes  famous,  140  ; 
festivals,  deficit  of  first,  144, 
146  ;  festivals,  directed  by 
Mme.  Wagner,  1=;?;  festivals, 
still  popular,  153  ;  plan  nearly 
fails,  1 39  ;  theatre,  see  Fest- 
spielhaus  ;  Wagner  goes  to, 
136;  why  selected,  137 

Bayreuther  Blatter,  147,  150 

"  Beethoven,"  essay  by  Wagner, 

'34 
Beethoven  influences  Wagner,  6 
Belart,  Hans,  "  Richard  Wagner 

in  Zurich,"  1 1 1 
Bellini,  Wagner's  admiration  for, 

»8,  33 


Belloni,  82 

Berlioz,  Hector,  42,  43,  57,  iia 
Beroul,  297 

Bertram-Mayer,  Mme.,  131 
Borron,  Robert  de,  297,  454 
Boston,  Wagner  nights,  104 
Brandt,  Karl,  143 
Bruckwald,  Otto,  143 
BriJckner  Brothers,  143 


Caedmon,  "  Beowulf,"  201 

"  Centennial  March,"  139 

Chivalry,  German  age  of,  331 

Chretien  de  Troyes,  454 

Christian  trilogy,  218 

"  Christopher  Columbus  "  over- 
ture, 20,  43 

"Communication  to  My 
Friends,"  16,  30,  61,  66,  67,  92 

Concert  Ouvertiire  mit  Fuge,  10 

"  Conducting,"  essay  on,  58,  134 

Conrad  111.,  331 

Cornelius,  Peter,  125 

Costa,  Michael,  100 


D 


Dannreuther,  Edward,  on  Wag- 
ner's character,  154,  156 

"  Das  Liebesverbot,"  19  et  seq. 

"  Das  Rheingold,"  388  et  seq.; 
see  also  "  Der  Ring  des  Nibe- 
lungen "  ;  Alberich,  warning 
and  curse,  392  ;  book  finished, 
36s  ;  curse,  the,  392,  394  ; 
Erda,  significance  of,  393  ; 
ethical  ideas  in,  389-392, 
394  ;  first  performances,  3156  ; 
gold,  the,  origin  of,  389  ;  gold, 
the  root  of  evil,  389  ;  music, 
424 ;  see  also  Leading  Mo- 
tives ;  music,  when  written, 
36t  ;  mythologic  basis,  384  ; 
original  casts,  356,  357  ;  pro- 
duced at  Munich,  131,  132; 
renunciation  of  love,  389 ; 
score  written,  94  ;  sin,  entry  of 


Index 


493 


"Das  RHm^iGOiD"— Continued. 
of  among  the  gods,  391  ;  sin 
of  gods,  connected  with  "  Got- 
terdammerung "    by    Wagner, 

394  ;  sin,  Wotan's,  burden  of, 
392  ;  story  of,  388  ef.  seq.  ; 
sword,    stage    business    with, 

395  ;  Wotan's  plan,  395;  Wo- 
tan's sin,  392 

Davidson,  Musical  IVorld,  100 

Deputy,  41 

"  Der  Fliegende  Hollander, 
234  et  seq.  ;  art  theories  in, 
213,  236;  book,  Wagner's 
view  of,  243  ;  book  written, 
45  ;  characterisation  in,  248  ; 
composition  of,  244  ;  concep- 
tion of,  237  ;  Daland  as  a  char- 
acter, 248  ;  duet  of  Dutchman 
and  Daland,  Italian  style  of, 
247  ;  elements  of  Wagner's  sys- 
tem in,  242  ;  embryonic,  213, 
236,  242,  246  ;  emotional  states 
in,  243  ;  failure  of,  S4  e(  seq.  ; 
first  performances,  234,  235  ; 
Fitzball's  play,  237  ;  foreshad- 
ows future  Wagner,  248,  249; 
Heine's  story,  237,  240  ;  in- 
strumentation, 248  ;  Italian 
music  in,  247;  legend  of,  34, 
238  ;    leitmotiv  foreshadowed, 

243  ;  "  Lohengrin,"  resem- 
blance to,    283  ;    lyricism   of, 

244  ;  Marryatt's  version,  239  ; 
music,  character  of,  246,  248  ; 
music,  plan  of,  243  ;  music, 
principal  ideas,  244  et  seq.  ; 
mythical  development,  239 ; 
original  casts,  234,  235  ;  or- 
iginal story,  238;  overture,  248; 
produced  at  Cassel  and  Riga, 
55  ;  Dresden,  54  ;  Munich, 
126  ;  Zurich,  97  ;  Senta's  bal- 
lad, 244,  245  ;  Senta's  charac- 
ter, 248 ;  sources  of  book, 
236  et  seq.,  283  ;  Spohr  on, 
55  ;  thematic  germs,  245  ; 
Van  der  Decken,  character  of, 
248 ;     Wagner's   additions    to 


story,  241  ;  Wagner's  view  of 
story,  241,  242  ;  when  written, 
236  ;  woman's  sacrifice  in,  240 
"  Der  Liebesmahl  der  Apostel," 
59 

"  Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen,"  355 
et  seq.  ;  see  also  "  Das  Rhein- 
gold,"  "  Die  Walkijre,"  "  Sieg- 
fried," and  "  Gotterdam- 
merung "  ;  abandoned  for 
"  Tristan  und  Isolde,"  106, 
107,  109,  ^66  \  TEschylean 
methods  in,  390  ;  art-theories 
in,  74 ;  begun,  93  ;  book 
completed,  93  ;  book,  concep- 
tion of,  72  et  seq.,  366  ;  book 
published,  120;  Briinnhilde, 
401,  402,  416;  critics  con- 
fused by,  142  ;  curse,  the, 
392,  398  ;  dates  of  events  in 
the  dramas,  370  ;  Eddas  and, 
372,  373  ;  ethical  basis  of 
story,  384,  385,  394,  416  ; 
expanded  into  tetralogy,  93, 
364  ;  expenses  of  production, 
how  provided,  137,  138  ;  fate 
and  punishment  for  sin,  390  ; 
"  Final  Report  "  on,  129  ;  first 
mentioned  by  Wagner,  364 ; 
first  performances,  355  ;  free 
hero,  405  ;  Hagen,  significance 
of,  399;  "  Heldenbuch  "  and, 
369;  King  Ludwig  and,  126; 
legends  in,  age  of,  367  ;  le- 
gends in,  origin  of,  368  ;  leit- 
motiv, method  of  developing, 
424  et  seq.;  leitmotiv  system  in, 
422,  423,  424  et  seq.  ;  Liszt 
on,  94,  106  ;  motives,  classifi- 
cation of,  424  ;  music,  422  ei 
seq.;  music,  advances  in,  74  ; 
music,  how  to  enjoy,  423  ; 
music,  philosophic  nature  of, 
423  ;  music,  relation  of  certain 
themes,  424-426,  428  ;  myth 
and  history,  }66  ;  "  Nibe- 
lungen Lied,"  story  of,  371  ; 
Norse  legends  of,  372  e(  seq.; 
Norse    mythology   in,    384   et 


494 


Index 


Der  Ring   des  Nibelungen  " — 

Continued, 
seq.;  opposition  to,  at  Munich, 
129  ;  orchestra  in,  445  ;  period 
of  events  in,  ^69,  370  ;  pro- 
duction at  Bayreuth,  140  ;  re- 
surrection in,  40s,  400 ;  revenge 
of  the  Nibelungs,  413;  rights 
sold  to  Munich,  144  ;  Ring, 
the,  Nibelungen  Lied  account 
of,  37',  372;  Ring,  the  Vol- 
sunga  Saga  account  of,  380, 
382,  383  ;  Ring,  the,  Wag- 
ner's use  of,  389,  391-393, 
398,  416,  417,  419;  scenery 
of,  143  ;  Sigurd  and  Briinn- 
hilde,  story  of,  374,  375  ;  sin 
of  gods,  how  treated  by  Wag- 
ner, 391,  394  ;  sources  of,  367 
et  seq.;  sources  of,  historical 
connections  of,  370,  374  ;  story 
as  told  by  Wagner,  388  et  seq.; 
Volsunga  Saga,  373  et  seq.; 
Volsunga  Saga,  story  of,  378 
et  seq.;  work  on  in  London, 
99  ;  Wotan's  eye,  how  lost, 
410  ;  Wotan's  plan,  395- 
398,  405,  437  ;  Wotan's  sin, 
392 
'  Die  Feen,"  10  et  seq.,  148 
'  Die   Gluckliche    Barenfamilie," 

32 
'  Die  Hochzeit,"  14,  15 
'  Die  Hohe  Braut,"  30,  31 

'  Die  Meistersinger  von  Nurn- 
berg,"  study  of,  328  et  seq.; 
artistic  doctrine  of,  343,  344  ; 
Beckmesser,  character  of,  335  ; 
begun,  64,  330  ;  book  finished, 
120,  330  ;  characters  historical, 
333)  335  >  Cosima  Wagner  on, 
341  ,•  critical  view  of,  342  ; 
first  performances,  328,  329  ; 
meisterlied  and  minnelied,  con- 
struction and  relations  of,  334  ; 
meistersingers,  customs  of,  333; 
meistersingers,  origin  of,  332  ; 
minnesingers,  forerunners  of 
meistersingers,   330-332  ;    Mii- 


glin,  Heinrich,  his  "  Long 
Tone  "  used  by  Wagner,  345  ; 
music,  344  et  seq.;  music,  Act 
II.,  finale  of,  352;  music,  be- 
gun, 120,  330  ;  music,  charac- 
teristics of,  353;  music,  chorale, 
Act  I.,  and  theme,  347;  music, 
completed,  330  ;  music,  mono- 
logue of  Sachs,  350  ;  music, 
significant  beauty  of  Meister- 
singer themes,  345  ;  original 
casts,  328,  329 ;  pendant  to 
"  Tannhauser,"  330  ;  period  of 
the  comedy,  333;  prelude,  344; 
prize  song,  340  ;  produced  at 
Munich,  131,  328;  quintet  in, 
340  ;  Sachs,  history  of,  333, 
336  ;  story  of,  336  et  seq. ; 
symbolism  in,  343  ;  Walther 
not  Wagner,  343 

"  Die  Sarazener,"  50,  61  ;  see 
also  "  Manfred  " 

Dietsch,  Pierre  Louis,  46,  115 

"  Die  Walkure,"  396  et  seq.; 
see  also  "  Der  Ring  des  Nibe- 
lungen "  ;  begun,  94  ;  book 
finished,  365  ;  Briinnhiide, 
character  of,  402  ;  Briinnhilde's 
punishment,  meaning  of,  401  ; 
curse,  398 ;  ethical  ideas  in, 
397-399,  401,  402  ;  finished, 
105;  first  performances,  358; 
Fricka's  importance,  397  et 
seq.  ;  music,  434  ;  see  also 
Leading  Motives  ;  when  writ- 
ten, 365  ;  original  casts,  358, 
359 ;  produced  at  Bayreuth, 
141;  produced  at  Munich,  132; 
rehearsal  at  Zurich,  105;  second 
act,  meaning  of,  397  ;  second 
act,  Wagner  on,  400  ;  sin  and 
its  punishment  in,  397;  sources 
of,  396  ;  story  of,  396  et  seq.  ; 
sword  in,  397  ;  "  Todesverkun- 
digiing,"  400;  work  on  at 
Zurich,  121  ;  Wotan's  plan, 
401;  Wotan's  plan  overthrown 
by  Fricka,  397 

"  Die  Wibelungen,"  72 


Index 


495 


Dom  Pedro  of  Brazil,  109 
Dorn,  Heinrich,  8,  9,  31 
"  Dors,  moil  enfant,"  42 
Drama,  spoken,  Wagner's  study, 

181 
Dramas,  Wagner's,  21}  et  seq. 
Dumersan,  38,  41 
"  Dur  Metier  de  Virtuose,"  44 


Edda,  the  Elder,  discovered,  373, 
374  ;  mythology  in,  385  ;  Po- 
etic, 375  ;  Sigurd  and  Briinn- 
hilde  in,  375 

Edda,  the  Prose,  or  Younger, 
mythology  in,  385  et  seq.  ; 
when  written,  373 

Eilhart  von  Oberge,  297 

"  Eine   Faust"  overture,   38-40, 

97 

Ellis,  W.  A.,  "  1849,  A  Vindi- 
cation," 78  ;  translation  of 
Wagner's  Prose  Works,  16 

"  End  of  a  Musician  in  Paris,"  47 


Festspielhaus   at   Bayreuth,    136, 

1 38  ;    builders  and   artists   of, 

143  ;  described,  142 
Feuerbach,  216 
Feustel,  Frederick,  138,  152 
Fischer,  Wilhelm,  45,  47 
"  Flying  Dutchman,"  see   "  Der 

Fleigende  Hollander  " 
France,    mixture  of   peoples  in, 

296 


Gasparini,  A.,  41 

Geoffrey  of  Monmouth,  296,  4153 

German  Music,  Wagner's  essay 
on,  41 

Geyer,  Ludwig,  2,  3  ;  "Slaugh- 
ter of  the  Innocents,"  3 

Gluck,  i6q  et  seq. 

"  GoTTtRDAMMERUNG,"      4IO,       et 


seq.,  see  also,  "Der  Ring  des 
Nibelungen  ";  Briinnhilde, char- 
acter of,  416;  Biirnnhilde, 
divinity  gone, 41 1,  416;  Briinn- 
hilde imparts  wisdom  and 
strength  to  Siegfried,  411; 
Briinnhilde's  deception,  418  ; 
Brunnhilde's  self-sacrifice,  42 1 ; 
curse,  in  operation  on  Siegfried, 
417;  diinkofforgetfulness,  414; 
drink  of  forgetfulness,  antidote, 
419;  "Dusk  of  the  Gods," 
described,  415  ;  ethical  ideas 
in,  416,  417,  421,  422  ;  expia- 
tion of  sin  of  gods,  421,  422; 
first  performances,  362,  363  ; 
Gibichung,  origin  of  name,  412; 
Grani,  412  ;  Gunther  identi- 
fied, 412  ;  Gutrune,  identified, 
412;  Hagen,  character  of,  413; 
Hagen,  mother  of,  413;  Hagen, 
the  ring  and,  420;  music,  442; 
see  also,  Leading  Motives  ; 
music,  when  written,  366 ; 
"Nibelungen  Lied,"  ideas  taken 
from,  372  ;  Norns  scene,  410; 
original  casts,  362,  363  ;  pene- 
tration of  the  fire,  409,  410; 
produced  at  Bayreuth,  141 ;  re- 
turn of  ring  to  Rhine  daughters, 
4 1 7, 4 1 9,  42 1 ;  Rhine  daughters, 
meeting  with  Siegfried,  419; 
ring,  connected  with  sin  of 
gods,  416;  runes,  Brunnhilde's, 
411  ;  Siegfried  matured,  411  ; 
story  of,  410  et  seq.;  sword, 
between  Siegfried  and  Briinn- 
hilde, 417,  418  ;  Waltraute's 
narrative,  415  ;  Wotan's  eye, 
how  lost,  410;  Wotan's  plan 
in,  420;  Wotan's  spear,  410 

Gottfried    von   Strassburg,     108, 

297 
Grail,  Holy,  see  "  Parsifal  " 
Greek  drama,  168,  see  also,  Art- 

Theories  of  Wagner 
Grimm  Brothers,  "  Deutsche  Sa- 

gen,"  272 
Gross,  Adolph,  152,  153 


496 


Index 


H 


Heine,  Ferdinand,  45,  47 

"  Heldenbuch,"  369 

Hoffmann,    E.   T.,    influence   on 

Wagner,  7,  8 
Hoffmann,  Joseph,  143 
Hohenstauffen  dynasty,  331 
Holtei,  Karl  von,  32 
"  Huldigungs  Marsch,"  124 


J 


"Jesus  von  Nazareth,"  71,  72 
Jockey     Club,     of    Paris,     and 

"  Tannhauser,  114,  115 
Joukowsky,  1  so 
"Judaism  in  Music,"  86,  87 
Jullien,  Adolphe,  38,  39 


K 


"  Kaisermarsch,"  134 
Krehbiel,  H.  E.,  "Studies  in  the 
Wagnerian  Drama,"  310 


"  La  Descente  de  la  Courtille,"4i 

"  L'Attente,"  42 

Laube,  Heinrich,  41 

Leading  Motives,  see  Art-Theories 
of  Wagner,  leitmotiv  ;  leading 
motives,  not  essential  to  know, 
219 

Leading  Motives.  "  Das  Rhein- 
gold  " :  Alberich,  master  of  the 
Nibelungs,  432;  Compact,  429; 
Curse,  433;  Departing  divinity, 
431;  Dragon,  433;  Erda,  424, 
425;  Giants,  429;  Gold,  the 
appearing,  427  ;  Gold,  the 
gleaming,  428  ;  Gotterdam- 
merung,  425,  428;  Hoard,  433; 
Loge,  431;  Nibelung,  smiths, 
432  ;  Nibelung's  hate,  433  ; 
Primeval  Elements,  424  ; 
Renunciation,  420  ;  Rhine 
daughters,  427  ;  "  Rhinegold," 


theme  explained,  428 ;  Ring, 
428;  Sword,  195,  395,  434; 
Tamhelm,  195,  429;  Walhalla, 
429.  "  Der  Fliegende  Hol- 
lander" :  Dutchman  theme,  245 ; 
Senta,  the  redeeming  element, 
245;  Yearning,  246  "  Wie, 
hor'  ich  recht?"247.  "Der 
Ring  das  Nibelungen":  see 
"  Das  Rheingold."  "  Die  Wal- 
kiire,"  "  Siegfried,"  "  GQtter- 
dammerung."  "  Die  Meister- 
singer:"  "Am  stillen  Herd," 
349  ;  Art  of  Song,  348  ;  Beat- 
ing, the,  350  ;  Chastisement, 
348  ;  Council,  348  ;  Derision, 
347  ;  Eva,  351  ;  Kothner's 
song,  349;  Meistersinger  march, 
345  ;  Meistersingers,  344  ;  Nu- 
remberg, 350;  Prize  Song,  346, 
353  ;  Sachs's  monologue,  350  ; 
St.  John's  Day,  349  ;  Spring, 
346,  347,  349 ;  "  Wahn, 
Wahn,"  352  ;  Walther's  emo- 
tion, 346;  Walther,  the  Knight, 
349 ;  Yearning  of  Love,  346. 
"Die  Walkure":  Briinnhijde's 
divinity,  438  ;  Departing  divin- 
ity, 431 ;  Fate,  437;J[36tterdam- 
merung,  437  ;  (Love,  434  ; 
Siegfried,  438  ;  SiegtTmie^)»m=^ 
pathy,  434  ;  Slumber,  439 ; 
Sword,  435  ;  "  Todesverkun- 
digijng,"  438  ;  Valkyr's  call, 
436  ;  Valkyrs,  436  ;  Volsung 
race,  435  ;  Volsungs,  sorrow 
of,  435  ;  Wotan's  wrath,  436. 
"  Gotterdammerung  ":  Briinn- 
hilde  and  the  Ring,  428,  429  ; 
Brunnhilde,  entrance  of,  426  ; 
BrLinnhilde's  despair,  444 ; 
Briinnhilde's  divinity,  438  ; 
Brunnhilde  the  woman,  443  ; 
Forgetfulness,  430  ;  Gibichung, 
430  ;  Gotterdammerung,  425, 
426  ;  Gutrune,  444  ;  Rhine- 
gold,  428  ;  Siegfried,  the  Man, 
443,  444  ;  Tarnhelm,  430. 
"  Lohengrin  ":  Elsa's  faith,  287; 
Elsa's  faith  broken,  288  ;  Grail 


Index 


497 


Leading  Motives — Continued. 
285  ;  Lohengrin,  286  ;  Ordeal, 
290  ;  Ortrud,  289  ;  Prohibi- 
tion, 288  ;  Swan,  287.  "  Par- 
sifal" :  Amfortas's suffering,  475 ; 
Atonement,  479  ;  Belief,  475  ; 
bells,  478  ;  Good  Friday,  479; 
Grail,  474  ;  Herzeleide,  477  ; 
Klingsor,  477  ;  Kundry,  the 
helpful,  477  ;  Lament,  the, 
478  ;  Last  Supper,  474  ;  Par- 
sifal, 477  ;  Promise,  the,  476  ; 
Sorcery,  476  ;  Swan,  478  ; 
Wild  Kundry,  476.  "Sieg- 
fried": BriJnnhilde's  awaken- 
ing, 441  ;  Dragon,  433  ;  Love's 
greeting,  442  ;  Siegfried,  the 
sword  wielder,  440  ;  Siegfried, 
the  youth,  440  ;  World's 
Heritage,  440 ;  Wotan,  the 
Wanderer,  440  ;  Yearning  for 
love,  440.  "  Tannhauser ": 
Bacchanale,  266 ;  Pilgrims' 
Chorus,  266  ;  Praise  of  Venus, 
267  ;    Venus's    pleading,    267. 

('^Tristan  und  Isolde":  Anguish, 
326  ;  Day,  323  ;  Death^2_2; 
Fate,  322"  Glance,  ^2~i  ;  Grief, 
■.■^,r_MMi£r.^K^c,tQj  "  themes  of. 
>   327:^  Love,    321  :    Love 

17^^^;  Lovp,  Tn"""Y^  "^1 
(324T3Vlark,  325  ;  Mark's 
■^7161732 5  ;  Sea,  322 

Lehmann,  Lilli,  138 

Leitmotiv,  see  Leading  Motives  ; 

not  necessary  to  recognise,  190. 

191 
"  Le  Vaisseau-Fantome,"  Dietsch, 

46 
"  Liebesmahl   der  Apostel,  der," 

see  "  Der  Liebesmahl  " 
"  Liebesverbot,  das,"  see   "  Das 

Liebesverbot  " 
Liszt,  Franz,  44,  73,  78-84,  93, 

94,  98,  104,  105,  150-152 

"Lohengrin,"  study  of,  270,  et 
seq.;  Act  I.  compared  with 
sources,  277  ;  Act  II.  compared 
with    sources,   278  ;    Act    III. 


compared  with  sources,  282  ; 
begun,  64,  273  ;  book  written, 
275  ;  cadence,  dominance  of, 
284,  285  ;  combat,  use  of  sword 
in,  277  ;  conception  of,  51  ; 
"  Der  Fliegende  Hollander," 
resemblance  of  story  to,  283  ; 
"Der  Sch  wanen-Ritter  "; 
(Chevalier  au  Cygne  ")  story  of, 
274  ;  dialogue,  not  recitative, 
284  ;  Elsa,  character  of,  276, 
282,  283  ;  endless  melody  ap- 
proached, 285  ;  finale  to  Act 
111.  at  Dresden,  70  ;  first  heard 
by  Wagner,  117;  first  perform- 
ances, 270  et  seq.;  Godfrey  of 
Bouillon,  relation  to,  275  ;  in- 
strumentation, significant  fea- 
tures, 290  ;  King  Henry,  char- 
acter of,  277  ;  letters  on 
performance  of,  91  ;  Lohen- 
grin's narrative,  source  of,  283  ; 
music,  analysed,  283  et  seq.; 
see  also  Leading  Motives  ; 
music,  classification  of,  291  ; 
music,  popularity,  reason  for, 
291  ;  music,  when  written, 
273  ;  old  poem,  273  ;  organic 
union  of  text  and  music,  284  ; 
original  casts,  270,  271 ;  original 
materials,  273,  et  seq.;  Ortrud, 
character  of,  276, 279,  280,  281 ; 
prelude,  28s,  286;  produced  at 
Munich,  130,  131  ;  produced  at 
Weimar,  90,  91  ;  power  of 
Lohengrin  to  be  taken  away 
by  a  wound,  283  ;  recitative, 
abolished  in,  284 ;  rhythm, 
dominance  of,  291  ;  score  sold, 
273  ;  score  sent  to  Liszt,  81  ; 
sources  of,  272  et  seq.;  sources, 
treatment  by  Wagner,  276  et 
seq.  ;  stage  pictures  in  Act  I!., 
280  ;  story  according  to  Wag- 
ner, 277  ;  sword,  Telramund 
felled  by,  278  ;  Telramund, 
character  of,  282  ;  Telramund, 
his  death,  source  of  idea,  283  ; 
time  signatures  in  score,  290, 
291 


498 


Index 


London  critics  offended,  loo 

London  Philharmonic  Society,  97 
et  seq. 

Ludwig,  King  of  Bavaria,  122, 
123,  128,  139,  148,  152 

Lully,  170 

LiJttichau,  von,  44 

Lyric  drama,  birth  and  develop- 
ment of,  168 


M 


Mackaye,  Steele,  142 

''  Manfred,"  so,  61 ;  see  also  "  Die 

Sarazener " 
Map,  Walter,  296,  453 
Meissen,  Heinrich  von,  333 
Meisterlied,  nature  of,  234 
"  Meistersinger    von     Niirnberg, 

die,"  see  "  Die  Meistersinger" 
Meistersingers,    history    of,    332 

et  seq. 
Metternich,  Princess,  113 
Meyerbeer,   36,   38,   43,  44,  89, 

"74 

Meyerbeer,    "  Les    Huguenots," 

89 

"  Mignonne,"  42 

Minnelied,  nature  of,  334  ;  origin 
of,  531 

Minnesingers,  history  of,  332,  et 
seq. 

Miiglin,  Heinrich,  335 

Monteverde,  Claudio,  169 

Morelli,  1 1  3 

Mozart,  1  70 

Miiller,  Gottlieb,  7 

Muncker,  Franz,  138,  152 

Munich  Conservatory,  12s,  126 

Munich,  new  Wagner  theatre,  128 

"  Music  of  the  Future,"  the, 
114 

Munich,  proposed  Wagner  the- 
atre, 126,  128 

Music,  theories  as  to,  see  Art- 
Theories  ;  also  -works  under 
separate  titles 

Mystic  gulf,  the,  141 

Mvths  as  subject  for  drama,  182 


N 


Neumann,  Angelo,  145 

Nibelungen  Lied,  73,  369 

"  Nibeiung  Myth  as  sketch  for  a 

Drama,"  the,  73 
Niemann,  Albert,  1 13 


"  On  the  Performance  of  '  Tann- 
hauser,'  "  86 

Opera,  birth  of,  168  ;  develop- 
ment of,  168  etseq.  ;  Wagner's 
study  of,  181  ;  Meyerbeerian 
ground-plan,  174 

"Opera  and  Drama,"  86,  88, 
180,  181 

Orchestra,  concealed,  140    ^5 


Pagan  trilogy,  2 1 8 

"  Parsifal,"  446  et  seq.;  Arthur- 
ian legends,  450  et  seq.;  Ar- 
thurian legends,  entry  of  Grail 
into,  453;  book  completed, 447; 
book  read  to  friends,  144,  477; 
Borron's  story  of,  457;  Breton 
epic,  454  ;  Chretien's  story  of, 
455  et  seq.;  conception,  447; 
conception  of,  51,  71  ;  Celtic 
legend  of  Peredur,  449;  date  of 
production  changed,  145  ;  en- 
lightenment of  Parsifal,  464  ; 
ethical  ideas  in,  472  ;  finished, 
147  ;  first  performance,  446  ; 
garden  scene,  plan  of,  408  ; 
Grail,  nature  of,  449,  450,  4s  1 , 
452;  Grail  stories,  origin  of, 
449  et  seq.;  Grail,  the  word, 
origin  of,  452  ;  Kundry,  char- 
acter of,  462,  464,  469,  470  ; 
Kundry  the  temptress,  470  ; 
Kundry 's  wandering,  471;  mu- 
sic, 473,  see  also  Leading  Mo- 
tives; music,  plan  of,  473,  479; 
music,  second  act,  479;  music, 
when   written,  447  ;    original 


Index 


499 


"  Parsifal  " — Continued. 
cast,  446  ;  panorama's  failure, 
149  ;  Parsifal's  character,  471  ; 
"  Parzival,"  Wolfram's,  448, 
449,  457  ;  Perceval,  derivation 
of  name,  452  ;  pity,  enlighten- 
ment by,  471  ;  prelude  played 
at  Wahnfried,  148,  474  ;  prep- 
arations to  produce,  146;  prob- 
lem play,  473  ;  produced  at 
Bayreuth,  149,  152  ;  Provencal 
versions  of  story,  452  ;  ques- 
tion, not  asked,  467-469  ;  re- 
hearsals begun,  148  ;  ended, 
149;  relation  of  "  The  Victors" 
to,  470  ;  religious  drama,  472  ; 
score  completed,  148;  sources 
of,  447  et  seq .;  sources  of,  com- 
pared with  drama,  467  ;  sub- 
scriptions for  production,  148; 
Wagner's  drama,  story  of,  461 
et  seq.  ;  Wolfram's  story  of, 
457  ;  working  on,  145,  147. 

Patron's  certificates,  137,  139. 

Peri,  Jacopo,  168 

Perl,  Henry,  "  Richard  Wagner 
in  Venice,"  150 

Pillet,  45,  46 

Plan  for  music  school  at  Munich, 
125 

Planer,  Minna,  death  of,  30;  jeal- 
ousy of,  1 10;  Wagner's  alleged 
neglect  of,  130;  Wagner's  mar- 
riage to,  27  ;  Wagner's  separa- 
tion from,  30,  119;  unsuited 
to  Wagner,  27  ^^  seq.  ;  62,  6}, 
83,  1 60 

"  Polonia,"  overture  to,  40,  41 

Praeger,  Ferdinand,  account  of 
revolution  of  1848,  76  et  seq.; 
relations  with  Wagner,  97  ; 
"  Wagner  as  1  Knew  Him,"  25, 

}'>,  76 
Prince  Albert,  102 


Queen  Victoria,  102 


Rameau,  170 

Recitative,  early,  168  et  seq. 

"  Recollections  of  Spontini,"  86 

Reissiger,  4s,  51 

"  Rheingold,  das,"  see  "Das 
Rheingold  " 

Richter,  Hans,  125,  130-132, 
'34,  '44 

"RiENzi,"22i  et  seq.;  Adriano, 
air  of,  232  ;  art-theories  in,  52, 
172,  176,  223,  225,  227,  228  ; 
Berlin  performances,  70,  71  ; 
character  of  hero,  230  ;  com- 
pleted, 44;  conception  of,  223, 
224;  divided  into  two  parts, 
52;  first  performances  to  1882, 
221,  222;  first  mentioned  by 
Wagner,  31;  libretto  begun, 
224;  libretto,  nature  of,  228, 
229,250;  materials  of,  176,225, 
226;  music  begun,  224;  music, 
nature  of,  228,229;  music,  Rien- 
zi's  prayer,  23 1 ;  offered  to  Dres- 
den, 44;  opera  instead  of  music- 
drama,  why,  225  et  seq.;  per- 
formance of,  suggestions  as  to, 
47;  prayer  in,  230,231;  prep- 
arations to  produce,  47,  48,  51 ; 
produced  at  Dresden,  5 1 ;  Ber- 
lin, 52;  Schure's  criticism  of, 
232 

"  Ring  des  Nibelungen,  der,"  see 
"  Der  Ring  " 

Rinuccini,  Ottavio,  168 

Rochlitz,  1 1 

Roeckel,  August,  53,  64 

Rossini,  89 

Royer,  Alphonse,  114,  116 

Rudolf  of  Hapsburg,  332 

"Rule  Britannia"  overture,  30, 
31 


Sachs,  Hans,  335,  336 
Saemund  the  Wise,  373-375 
Sainton,  Prosper,  98 


500 


Index 


"  Sarazener,  die,"  see  "  Die  Sara- 
zener  " 

Saxe,  Marie,  1 13 

Scharfenberg,  Albreclit  von,"  Der 
Jungere  Titurel,"  272 

Schladebach,  67,  68 

Schlesinger,  38 

Schnorr,  Ludwig,  125,  127,  128 

Sciiopenhauer,  A.,  108,  184 

Schroeder-Devrient,  Wilhelmina, 
18,  48,  54,  65 

Schumann,  Robert,  68 

Seidl,  Anton,  145 

Semper,  Gottfried,  126 

Siegfried,  date  of  his  death,  370  ; 
character  as  conceived  by  Wag- 
ner, 403;  German  hero,  369 

"  Siegfried,"  402  et  seq.;  see  also 
"  Der  Ring  des  Nibelungen  "; 
bird's  voice  a  soprano,  407  ; 
book  written,  93;  conception 
of,  93;  conception  of  hero,  404; 
Erda,  408;  first  performances, 
360;  Forest  Bird,  voice  of,  407; 
Forest  Bird  and  the  "  Lay  of 
Fafner,"  376;  free  hero,  405; 
Mime,  origin  of  name,  403  ; 
Mime,  Regin  compared  with, 
403;  Mime's  betrayal  of  him- 
self. Act  11.,  408;  music,  439, 
see  also  Leading  Motives;  mu- 
sic, when  written,  365;  original 
casts,  360,  301  ;  originality  of 
Act  11.,  408;  penetration  of  the 
fire,  legend  of,  409  ;  produced 
at  Bayreuth,  141  ;  question 
scene  in  Act  I.,  origin  of,  405  ; 
Siegfried's  nature  and  character, 
403,  404;  story  of,  405  et  seq.; 
sword,  power  and  name  of, 
409;  "  Vafthrudnersmal,"  405; 
"  Watdweben,"  407  ;  Wotan's 
plan  in,  405,  408 

"  Siegfried's  Death,"  367 

"  Siegfried  Idyl,"  134 

Smolian,  Arthur,  263 

Snorie  Stuiieson,  373 

Spontini,  60,  68 

Standthartner,  Dr.,  149 


"  State  and  Religion,"  124 
Symphony   in   C,    11,    12,    151; 

analysis  of,  482  et  seq.;  history 

of,  481 


"  Tannhauser,''  250  et  seq.;  ad- 
ditions to  story  by  Wagner, 
258  ;  Biterolf,  261  ;  book  writ- 
ten, 50,  252  ;  characterisation 
in,  268;  characters  historical, 
260;  completed,  62;  conception 
of,  50,  252  ;  contest  of  song, 
origin  of  idea,  256  ;  Elizabeth, 
character  of,  257,  261  ;  essay  on 
performance  of,  253;  essence 
of,  Wagner's  words  on,  269  ; 
ethics  of  the  drama,  261,  262; 
failure  of,  65 ;  first  performances, 
250,  251  ;  good  and  evil  prin- 
ciples, 261-263;  good  and 
evil  principles,  music  of,  265  ; 
grotto  of  Venus,  258;  Heinrich 
of  Ofterdingen,  identified  with 
Tannhauser,  256,  259  ;  Her- 
mann the  Landgrave, 256;  jock- 
ey Club  of  Paris  and,  114,  115; 
legend  of,  254,  255;  leitmotive, 
absence  of,  265  ;  letter  to  Carl 
Galliard  on,  65;  Lord  Lytton's, 
264;  man,  a  drama  for,  263; 
misunderstood,  65,  66;  music, 
analysed,  264  et  seq.;  music, 
finished,  252;  music,  nature  of, 
264  et  seq.;  music,  principal 
ideas,  see  Leading  Motives; 
mythology,  Roman  and  Teu- 
tonic, 257,  258;  narrative  of 
Tannhauser,  263 ;  original  casts, 
250,  251 ;  original  ideas  in,  254; 
overture  in  London,  101;  Paris 
version,  nature  of,  253  ;  Paris 
version,  origin  of,  114,  115, 
252,  253;  praise  of  Venus,  259; 
preparations  for  production, 
64;  produced  at:  Dresden,  65; 
Munich,  150,  131;  Paris,  112 
et  seq.;  Weimar,  81;  Zurich, 
97;  provisional  title,  252;    Rei- 


Index 


501 


"  Tannhauser  " — Continued. 
mar,  260;  relations  to  "  Tristan 
und  Isolde,"  253,269;  "Sanger- 
krieg,"  254  ;  score  completed, 
252;  Smolian,  Arthur, pamphlet 
on  music,  265  ;  sources  of,  254 
et  scq.;  Tannhauser,  character 
of,  258,  259,  261 ;  "  Tannhauser 
Lied,"  2S4;  transition  period, 
belongs  to,  213,  252;  Venus, 
257,  258,  259;  "  Venusberg, 
Romantic  Opera,  "  252  ; 
"  Volksbuch,"  254  ;  Wartburg 
Castle,  255;  "  Wartburgkrieg," 
256,  259;  Wogelweide,  Wal- 
ther  von  der,  256,  260  ;  Wolf- 
ram, 255,  256,  260;  woman, 
the  saving  grace  of,  262,  263 

Tausig,  Carl,  109,  no,  137 
Text  of  Wagner  Dramas,  import- 
ance of  knowing,  219 
Thomas,  Theodore,  139 
Tichatschek,  48,  51,  131 

"Tristan  und  Isolde,"  study  of, 
2()^etseq.;  Act  I.,  302;  Act  II. 
305;  Act  III.,  308;  abandoned, 
as  impossible,  118;  accepted  at 
Vienna,  118;  art-theories  in, 
316,  Arthurian  legends,  now 
Gallicised,  296  ;  begun,  109  ; 
book  written,  295;  Celtic  origin 
of  story,  295  el  seq.;  concep- 
tion of,  106,  107,  108,  294; 
day  and  night,  riddles  of,  306- 
308  ;  death,  basic  tiiought  of 
drama,  304,  306,  311,  312; 
death,  idea  in  Isolde's  mind, 
302,  303;  death,  yearning  for, 
311,312;  emotions,  treatment 
of,  316  el  scq.;  Fate,  workings 
of,  in  drama,  311;  finished,  110; 
first  act  written,  109;  first  per- 
formances, 293;  Gottfried's  ver- 
sion, 297  ;  Isolt  of  the  Wiiite 
Hand,  299  300,  314  ;  King 
Mark,  his  sermon,"  31  3,  314; 
legend,  fundamental  idea  of, 
301;  leitmotiv  system  in,  315, 
316;  love  of  Tristan  and  Isolde 


not  caused  by  the  magic  drink, 
301 ,  3  I  o  ;  "  Liebestod,"  mu- 
sical germs  of,  324,  327;  Liszt 
on,  107;  metaphysics  in,  312; 
musical  plan  of  drama,  314; 
music,  3 1 5 1'/  seq.;  see  also  Lead- 
ing Motives  ;  music, general  plan 
of,  318  et  seq.;  music,  third  act, 
314  320;  music,  when  writ- 
ten, 295  ;  narrative  of  Isolde, 
303;  organic  union  of  arts  in, 
312,  317,  318  ;  original  casts, 
293;  "O  sink'  hernieder,"  307, 
324;  pessimism  in  Act  II.,  310, 
313;  potion,  office  of,  301,  304, 
305,  510;  prelude,  321;  pro- 
duced at  Munich,  127;  produc- 
tion, difficulties  of,  iii,  125; 
pronounced  impossible,  122; 
Schopenhauer's  influence  in, 
312,  313;  second  act  sketched, 
no;  sources  of,  108,  295  et 
seq.;  sources  of,  Wagner's  treat- 
ment, 300  et  seq.;  story,  com- 
pletions of,  299,  300,  314  ; 
story,  Gottfried's,  297  ;  story, 
oldest  versions  of,  297;  story, 
origin  of,  295  et  seq.;  story, 
Wagner's  version,  300  et  seq.; 
text,  character  of,  317;  torch 
in  Act  II.,  305;  wound,  Tris- 
tan's, meaning  of,  307,  308 

Troubadours,  influence  on  Ger- 
man song,  330 

Troyes,  Chretien  de,  297 

"  Two  Grenadiers,"  42 

U 

"  Ueber  das  Dirigen,"  58,  134 
Unger,  George,  141 

V 

Viceroy  of  Egypt,  139 
"  Victors,  The,"  108 
"  Victory,"  the,  108 
VogI,     Heinrich,     131  ;   Therese, 
131,  132 


502 


Index 


Volsunga  Saga,  73;  corollaries  of, 

378;  origin  of,  377;  story  told 

in,  378  et  seq. 
Von    BLilow,    Cosima,    90,    112, 

125,  130,  132,  133 
Von  Biilow,  Hans,  90,  112,  124, 

130,  131,  152 
Von  Biilows,  the,  separation  of, 

130,  132;  divorce  of,  133 

W 

Wagenseil,     Johann    Christoph, 

335 

Wagner,  Albert,  2,  15  ;  wife  and 
daughter,  2 

Wagner,  Cosima,  133,  134,  153, 
160  ;  see  also  Von  Biilow 

Wagner,  Friedrich,  i 

Wagner,  Johanna,  2,  65,  138 

Wagner,  Richard,  abandonment 
of  career  contemplated,  119; 
affection  of,  103  ;  ambition  to 
reach  Paris,  30  ;  America, 
asked  to  visit,  104,  159;  am- 
nesty, 118;  ancestry,  1  ;  ap- 
pearance of,  162  ;  appreciates 
his  own  genius,  121 ;  approach 
of  death,  149,  150;  artistic 
aims  of,  167  et  seq.;  artistic 
impulse,  158,  1=59;  art-theories, 
see  separate  title  ;  attachment 
to  Cosima  von  Biilow,  begin- 
ning of,  125  ;  attitude  toward 
public,  55,  67  ;  autobiographic 
sketch,  52  ;  autobiography, 
unpublished,  153;  ballet  and, 
487  ;  Bayreuth,  goes  to,  i  36  ; 
Bayreuth,  work  at,  n7  ft  seq.; 
Biebrich,  visit  to,  120  ;  birth, 
2  ;  boyhood,  3  et  seq.  ;  boyish 
tragedies,  4  ;  Buddhistic  drama, 
rumours  about,  is3  ;  burial  of, 
152  ;  calumniated,  130  ;  char- 
acter of,  29,  103,  154  et  seq.  ; 
chorus  master  at  Wiirzburg, 
15;  church  music,  director  of, 
58  ;  clothes,  rich,  love  of, 
157  ;  "  Communication  to  My 


Friends,"  see  separate  title; 
concert  tours,  118,  119,  144; 
conducting,  essay  on,  48  ;  con- 
ductor at  Dresden,  56,  59,  60  ; 
conductor  at  Konigsberg,  25, 
27  ^/  seq.  ;  conductor  at  Lon- 
don, 94  et  seq.  ;  144  ;  con- 
ductor at  Magdeburg,  19  ; 
conductor  at  Riga,  31  ;  con- 
ducts at  Zurich,  89  ;  conducts 
juvenile  symphony,  151  ;  con- 
ducts "  Flying  Dutchman,"  54, 
97 ;  corner-stoneof  Festspielhaus 
laid  by,  138  ;  Cosima  von  Bii- 
low, love  for,  125,  130;  critics 
on,  69,  142  ;  death,  152  ; 
debts,  troubled  by,  74,  85, 
95,  116,  120;  depression,  158; 
despair,  period  of,  119-121; 
disappointed  by  public  misun- 
derstanding, 53,  55,  119,  121, 
147,  148,  160,  161  ;  dissatis- 
fied with  theatre,  32,  174,  175, 
1 79  ;  Dresden,  flight  from,  79  ; 
Dresden,  work  in,  59  et  seq.  ; 
drudgery  in  Paris,  46,  4Tet 
seq.  ;  dual  individuality,  uj^^ 
et    seq. ;    dyspepsia,    92,    94, 

151  ;  early  models,  16  ;  early 
musical  studies,  5  et  seq.  ;  en- 
emies of,  155  ;  erysipelas,  92  ; 
extravagant  iiabits,  1 57  ^/  seq.  ; 
faints  at  rehearsal,  149  ;  Fan- 
taisie  Castle,  lives  in,  1 56  ;  Fa- 
therland Union,  speech  before, 
75  ;  final  illness,  151  ;  finding 
himself,  53-S6  ;  first  compo- 
sitions, 7,  8  ;  first  composi- 
tions published,  9  et  seq.  ;  see 
also  separate  titles ;  friend- 
ship with  Liszt,  74,  80  ;  friends 
of,     155  ;    funeral    in    Venice, 

152  ;  funeral  in  Bayreuth,  152  ; 
Geneva,  visits,  129  ;  habits 
of,  150;  heart  trouble,  I49h- 
151 ;  household,  150  ;  improvi- 
dence of,  83,  8s,  86,  mj,  158  ; 
insomnia,  94  ;  Italy,  visits  to, 
04,  110,  147;  King  Ludwig's 
friendship,    122   et  seq.,   128; 


Index 


503 


Wagner,  Richard — Continued. 
KingLudwig's  friendship,  scan- 
dals about,  114,  128;  Konigs- 
berg  period,  25,  27  et  seq.  ; 
Lachner's  prize  symphony,  ob- 
jects to  conducting,  99  ;  Leip- 
sic  period,  17;  "Lohengrin," 
first  heard  by  Wagner,  92, 
117;  London,  concerts  in,  100, 

101  ;    London,     criticism     in, 

102  ;  London,  critics  offended, 
100  ;  London,  first  visit  to,  34  ; 
London,  residences  in,  99  ; 
London,  second  visit  to,  96 
et  seq.  ;  London  Philharmonic 
Society,  conductor  of,  97  et 
seq.  ;  Lucerne,  visits,  1 10, 
129;  luxury,  love  of,  156, 
157;  manners  of,  156;  Mar- 
ienbad,  visit  to,  64  ;  marriage 
to  Minna  Planer,  25,  27  et 
seq.  ;  83,  160  ;  marriage  to 
Cosima  von  Billow,  132-134, 
160;  meets  Meyerbeer,  36; 
mother  of,  2  ;  Munich,  goes  to, 
123  ;  Munich,  leaves,  129  ; 
Munich,  opposition  in,  128  ; 
myth  in  dramas,  72  ;  see  also 
separate  title;  Nibelungen  Lied 
taken  up  as  a  subject,  73  ;  see 
also  separate  titles  :  "Nibelun- 
gen Lied,"  "  Siegfried's  Death," 
and  "  Der  Ring  des  Nibelun- 
gen" ;  04)poslti.Qii„iD^,ii3,-.67,. 
68j  94,  100,  102,  112,  1 14  ; 
Palace,  Vendramin,  150;  Pales- 
trina,  admirer  of,  58;  Paris,  first 
sojourn  in,  36,  37,  38  et  seq.; 
Paris,  revisited,  82,  103  ;  Paris, 
second  sojourn  in,  112  ;  Paris, 
concerts  in,  1 1 2 ;  Paris ,  leaves  for 
Germany,  48  ;  Paris,  leaves  for 
Vienna,  116;  Paris,  residences 
in,  39,  46,  112;  "  Parsifal," 
work  during  rehearsals  of,  14Q  ; 
Penzing,  visit  to,  120;  Peps, 
his  dog,  92,  10^  ;  perform- 
ances unsatisfactory  to,  161  ; 
poverty,  95  ;  Prague,  visit  to, 
14  ;  prose  writings,  beginning 


of,  67  ;  see  also  separate  titles  ; 
purpose  of  his  life,  167;  Queen 
Victoria  and,  102  ;  Religious 
mysticism,  148;  RevolutiQiLXif 
1848,  71,  lX-et_^eq  ;  Riga 
en'gageTfieiTr,  31  ;  Riga  en- 
gagement, its  end,  ^3  ;  rude- 
ness of,  155  ;  school  days, 
4  ;  Schopenhauer's  influence 
on,  108  ;  search  for  by  King 
Ludwig's  messengers,  123  ; 
Seelisberg,  visit  to,  103  ;  sense 
of  humour,  99,  100;  sensuous 
enjoyment,  19  ;  separation 
from  first  wife,  119;  silk  gar- 
ments, fond  of,  157;  songs, 
42  ;  see  also  separate  titles ; 
Starnberg,  Lake,  villa  on,  123  ; 
starving  his  wife,  charged  with, 
130;  suicidal  thoughts,  158; 
symphony  in  C,  11,  12  ;  sym- 
phony in  C  performed  in  Ven- 
ice, 151 ;"  TannhJiuser,"  effect 
of  its  failure  on  V^'agner's  life, 
67  ;  Teplitz,  visit  to,  19,  50  ; 
Triebschen,  settles  at,  129; 
Vendramin  Palace,  goes  to, 
150;  Vendramin  Palace,  house- 
hold in,  150  ;  Vendramin  Pal- 
ace, life  in,  ISO;  Venice,  first 
visit,  1 10;  Venice,  last  days  in, 
150  et  seq.;  Vevay,  visits, 
129 ;  Vienna,  visits,  117; 
Wahnfried,  goes  to,  i  ;6;  weak- 
ness in  character,  is8  ;  Web- 
er's remains  removed  by,  60  ; 
Weimar,  goes  to,  80,  118; 
Wesendonck,  Mrs.,  intrigue 
with,  110,  in;  worship  of 
Weber,  5,  6  ;  Wiirzburg  per- 
iod, 1 5  et  seq.  ;  Zurich,  con- 
certs at,  106  ;  Zurich,  goes  to, 
81  ;  Zurich,  return  to  from 
London,  103 

Wagner,  Rosalie,  2,  i  5 
Wagner,  Siegfried,  133,  153 
Wagner   Societies  formed,    138 ; 

consolidated,  iS3 
Wagnerites,  English,  103 


504 


Index 


"  WalkCire,  die  "  ;  see''  Die  Wal- 

kiire  " 
Weber,  art-theories  of,  175 
Weber,     influence     on    Wagner, 

'75 
Weber's    remains    removed    by 

Wagner,  60 
Weinlig,  Theodore,  9 
Wesendonck,  letter  to,  in 
Wesendonck,  Mathilde,  107,  no, 

1 1 1 


"Wieland  the  Smith,"  89 

Wilhelmj,  144 

Wille,  94,  120,  121,  123 

Wittgenstein,  Countess,   105 

Wolff,  O.  L.  B.,  81 

Wolfram  von  Eschenbach,  his- 
tory of,  448  ;  "  Parzival," 
story  of,  4S7 

Wolzogen,  Hans  von,  147 

Wiirzburg,  Konrad  von,  "  Der 
Schwanen-Ritter,"  272 


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